Climbing the Ranks - Chapter 39 preview (Patreon)

They brought him into a building, not the central one but off to the side of it. Amah was already seated, rubbing her knee with a grimace of pain. By the side, a woman was brewing tea.

“Sit. Sit. We don’t have a lot of time. We got you out, so talk. And make it quick,” Amah said, glowering at Arthur.

“First things first, names!” Arthur said. “I’m Arthur. Arthur Chua. Be nice to know the name of my savior.”

“You can call me Amah Si.” The old woman’s hand moved off her knee for a second, touching the cane by her side as she glared at Arthur. “Now, talk.”

“Right, so, I met your girls the first time by accident. They were in a fight with…” Arthur chose to speak, fast, no longer seeing a point in delaying. He owed them for saving his ass after all, but he was sure he was not out of the fire yet. Maybe edging towards the fire’s edge , but he knew what they wanted. Eventually. Thus all the noise he could hear outside, the bodies he could catch in the reflection of the glassed window of people hurrying.

When he finally ran down and finished telling his story, Amah Si stared him up and down. She frowned as she looked over his body, then nodded abruptly.

“Sharmilla!” She called out.

The big, dark-skinned Indian woman poked her head around the corner. “What?”

“Take him to get washed and changed. He stinks.”

“I… do.” Arthur paused, taking care not to sniff himself. Vomiting and bleeding and sweating and exuding corruption while cultivating was not a good smell.

“Well, then, stinky. Move!” Sharmilla snapped, causing Arthur to jump up. He grabbed at the edge of his chair when he realized he’d moved too fast, wincing as his head spun. Once he had his feet underneath him though, she chivvied him into the nearest bathroom.

Arthur was not at all surprised when he entered the bathroom to find that it was cleaner than most that he had visited. After all, Amah Si did not strike him as an individual who allowed things like cleanliness or slovenly behaviour to exist within swinging range of her cane.

So, in a clean, pandan-and-bleach smelling bath, he cleansed himself. The scrub and exfoliating brush he found nearby did wonders for his skin, leaving him to marvel just for a second, about the extent that his transformation as a Cultivator had brought about.

Of course, unlike a real bathroom, there were no showers, forcing him to go old school using a pail and barrel. Surprisingly, the cold water was invigorating rather than freezing, seeming to help awaken him further. He luxuriated, for a few moments in being actually clean, before his time of peace was interrupted.

“Mmm… so are you a shower or grower?” Sharmila, standing inside the bathroom with a towel and a change of clothing in hand was staring at Arthur rather admiringly.

“Oy!” Automatically, Arthur covered himself. “I latched that door!”

“And?” Sharmila smirked. “You think we let you in alone without a way to get in? You think we’re that trusting?”

Still covering his privates, Arthur glared at Sharmila. “No. Just a pervert. You know, this is assault.”

“I haven’t touched you. Yet.” She shook the towel in her hand, smiling. “Also, I came here to offer you this.”

“Fine. Sexual harassment.” Arthur growled, walking over and using one hand to snatch the towel from her and wrapped it around himself. “You do realise, if I was a guy doing this to a girl, you’d be screaming bloody murder. Equality means you don’t get to do shit like this either…”

“Well then, I guess that means you’ve been given permission to walk in on me when I’m bathing,” Sharmila replied without backing down. In fact, she went so far as to wink.

Surprisingly, beyond the initial shock and surprise, Arthur found that he was not as emberassed as he could have been. Some of that, of course, had to do with having shared quarters – and bathing areas – with women. Accidents did happen, though there was often a lot more blushing and apologies involved.

But also, even her sauciness, the outright flirting… it didn’t seem to be affecting him like it should have. Any other time, he might have grown bolder. Maybe stepped up closer, kissed her, played the game of daring to see how far he could push it. He had never been sexually shy.

Right now though, while he could feel his desire, it was at a remove. As though a slight film was covering it, letting him gauge the entire situation with less heat than before. He could see the way her eyes tracked over his body initially, but now, beyond the over-exaggerated licking of lips and perusal of his body, Sharmila was watching him – his face, his body language – than her initial actions had indicated.

As though…

“Tiu. You’re testing me.” Arthur sighed, running a hand through wet hair. He might have flexed a little. He might be weirdly cold about this all, but he was still a man and rather vain about his body. Long hours training, exercising and fighting meant he was rather ripped – a fact that had grown even more enhanced since his meals had become Tower energy intensive.

“Amah was right.” Sharmila said, suddenly relaxing and turning away to put the robes aside. “She’s always right. It’s really annoying.”

“Right about what?” Arthur asked, stepping closer to the departing woman.

He never managed to get to her, since he hesitated grabbing her at the last second. That last inch barrier, that sacrosanct milimeter of space where physical touch became all too invasive among people who lived in crowded cities and stood, breath in each other’s face, mere inches in public transportation… that invisible barrier stopped him.

And then he lost his chance, as she was gone. Leaving him asking the air…

“Right about what!?!”

***

Dressed and dry, he found the woman waiting along with Jan. The pair seemed to have chosen – or been chosen – to be his guards. In short order, he was down the stairs, hustled out of the building. When he craned his neck back over his shoulder to where Amah Si had spoken to him, he was pushed with a stick in his back forward.

“Ouch. And where are we going?” Arthur groused. “I’m grateful for the rescue and bath, but I’m not exactly thrilled at being led around.”

“Out. We’re headed out,” Sharmila replied breezily, her head craning from side-to-side constantly.

“I get that…” He waved at the sparse buildings and the majority tents around him, while other buildings were still being constructed by industrious women and the occasional few men. “But where out? What’s the plan?”

“You don’t know, ah?” Jan said, derision in her voice. “It was your plan, ah.”

“My plan?”

“You show us Mel and others, we save them lah.”

“Right. Of course. My plan.” Arthur sighed. Well, it was better than being slowly beaten to death. Still…

“Cheer up. We’re going to be meeting Uswah. She’s got a Yin Body like you. So you can learn how to cultivate from her,” Sharmila said, prodding Arthur again from behind with her stick. “Then maybe you’ll be a real man again.”

“I’m not… you…” Arthur threw his hands up. “Fine. Whatever. But I need my bag.”

“Ya, ya, kita dah bawang. Now move, before the Suey Ying tong stop talking and try bursting in.” One more prod and Arthur, grumpily, sped up to catch up with Jan who had started moving faster. In the distance, he could just about spot the commotion at the edges of their tent, where a group of large, burly and angry men stared at them.

Yup. Definitely better than being beaten to death.