Black Phoenix Heir

Chapter 5: Chapter 5 — The Quartermaster

Chapter 5 — The Quartermaster

Victor opened his eyes.

For several seconds, he simply stared at the ceiling, unable to remember where he was. His mind felt strangely heavy, as though someone had filled his skull with lead. He knew he had returned from the Library, but the experience of absorbing the Black Phoenix Flame Cultivation Manual had left him mentally exhausted. The knowledge was still there, settled somewhere deep within his mind, but trying to examine it now felt like trying to think through a thick fog.

He closed his eyes again.

The image of the Library briefly surfaced in his thoughts. The endless shelves. The strange Spirit. The black flame. The cultivation technique.

Too much.

Victor let out a quiet breath and decided that whatever he had learned could wait. He needed sleep.

He didn’t remember falling asleep.

A sharp beeping sound suddenly pierced through the room.

Victor’s eyes snapped open.

For a moment, he looked around in confusion before the sound came again. It was coming from his wrist. Victor lifted his arm and stared at the dark metal bracelet wrapped around it. A small symbol on its surface was glowing faintly.

He blinked.

"So it has an alarm?"

Victor stared at the artifact for another moment. The same bracelet that could apparently send a pulse through his body and kill him if he tried to leave the tower also happened to function as an alarm clock.

That’s... surprisingly practical.

Another beep sounded.

Victor looked toward the room’s only window. The light outside had already changed. The tower was beginning its day.

He sat up quickly.

I’m going to be late.

Victor swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. His body still felt somewhat sluggish, but the exhaustion from the Library had faded enough for him to move normally. He took a moment to collect his thoughts.

He had only been in this world for a short time, yet he already understood one thing. Surviving here wasn’t going to be as simple as becoming stronger. Strength was important, perhaps more important than anything else, but he couldn’t grow blindly. He needed to understand the society of the tower first. He needed to learn how the tower worked, how slaves advanced, how credits were earned and spent, and most importantly, how someone stopped being a slave.

That was his first goal.

Freedom.

Not escaping the tower. That was probably impossible for someone in his position. He needed to understand the system and find a way to work his way out of slavery.

Everybody has to start somewhere.

Victor glanced down at his hand.

He also needed to cultivate.

His normal cultivation couldn’t be neglected. His Core was only at the fourth rank of the Body Tempering Realm, which was pitifully weak, but now he had another path as well. The Black Phoenix Flame Cultivation Manual had given him a method to develop the strange flame beside his Core. He would need to make time for both.

Then there was alchemy.

Victor frowned slightly.

He knew almost nothing about it beyond what he had inherited through his memories. If he wanted to become an alchemist, he would have to start from the beginning.

At least he was in an Alchemy Tower.

That should help.

Victor glanced toward the other bed.

The room’s left side was already neat and orderly. The blanket had been folded, the small desk was clean, and the few belongings sitting on it had been arranged carefully. Whoever his roommate was, they had already left.

Victor looked at the empty side of the room.

I wonder when I’ll meet him.

He didn’t have time to think about it for long.

Victor walked to the door, opened it, and immediately heard the tower.

The quiet room had concealed the noise outside, but the moment he stepped into the hallway, he was surrounded by movement. People were already rushing through the corridors in every direction. Robed cultivators hurried past carrying books, bottles, herbs, and various pieces of equipment. Slaves pushed carts loaded with materials while workers shouted to one another over the noise. Doors opened and closed constantly, and somewhere farther down the hallway, someone was loudly complaining about an assignment.

The tower had come alive.

Victor stepped aside as several people passed him and began following the signs toward the Quartermaster’s office. The further he walked, the more crowded the corridors became.

Eventually, he found the room.

The Quartermaster’s office was considerably larger than Victor had expected. It looked less like the office of a prison and more like some enormous bureaucratic center. Several lines stretched across the room, each leading toward different desks. People waited with papers, tablets, containers, and identification tokens while employees moved between them, checking records and directing people toward different sections.

Victor stood near the entrance for a moment, taking it all in.

It’s like the DMV.

The comparison was strangely comforting.

At least some things apparently worked the same way in every world.

He found the line for the Quartermaster and took his place. There were only a few people ahead of him, so he shouldn’t have to wait long.

While standing there, Victor glanced around the room.

Two young men were arguing several feet away.

One of them had the appearance of someone who probably spent more time worrying about his hair than his cultivation. He was handsome, dressed in a relatively stylish robe, and carried himself with the effortless confidence of someone accustomed to attention. The other looked almost like his complete opposite. He was thinner, wore simple robes, and had a somewhat scholarly appearance. His hair was slightly disheveled, and a pair of thin spectacles rested on his nose.

The scholarly disciple pointed angrily at him. "Bro, I heard you were talking to my girl last night."

The other disciple immediately shook his head. "No, man. I wasn’t. I would never do that to you. We’re friends."

"Don’t lie to me." The first disciple’s expression hardened. "We both know you were talking to Gloria behind my back."

"I wasn’t—"

"We’re no longer friends."

The scholarly disciple shoved him in the chest.

The other man stumbled back, looking more hurt than angry. For a moment, he seemed as though he wanted to say something, but apparently thought better of it. The first disciple turned and walked away.

The other watched him leave with a disappointed expression before quietly following him out of the office.

Victor watched them disappear.

So even cultivators have relationship problems.

He turned back toward the line.

A few moments later, the person ahead of him stepped forward.

Then another.

Finally, it was Victor’s turn.

He approached the counter.

The man sitting behind it looked nothing like the rough guards Victor had encountered so far. He was clean-shaven, clean-cut, and dressed in immaculate robes. His hair was perfectly arranged, his desk was spotless, and every document in front of him had been placed precisely where it belonged. There was an air of efficiency around him that reminded Victor of a manager running a massive company back on Earth.

He looked up.

"Oh, look here." His eyes moved over Victor briefly. "Looks like we have a new one."

Victor nodded. "Yes. I was told to report to you so I could receive my job assignment."

The Quartermaster reached for a record on his desk and began scanning it.

"Let’s see..."

His finger moved down the page.

"Yep. I see it."

He looked back at Victor.

"Victor Ashcroft. New arrival. Requested to report today."

Victor nodded.

The Quartermaster checked the time.

"Good job being on time."

Victor wasn’t sure whether that was praise or simply an observation.

The Quartermaster continued looking at the record before adding casually, "You don’t want to be late, by the way."

The Quartermaster looked back down at the record, his eyes moving across the page for a few seconds before stopping. "It looks like you’ll be assigned underground, in the mining and herb-gathering division on Basement Level Three."

He reached to the side of his desk and pulled out a small rectangular piece of metal. It was thin enough to fit in Victor’s palm, with the tower’s emblem engraved across its surface. The Quartermaster slid it across the desk toward him.

"Here’s your work permit."

Victor picked it up and examined it briefly. There was nothing particularly impressive about it. It looked more like an identification card than something that would grant him permission to work in a restricted part of the tower.

"Keep it with you while you’re working," the Quartermaster said. "You’ll need it to enter the mining division."

Victor nodded and tucked the permit away.

The Quartermaster then pointed toward the bracelet around Victor’s wrist. "And don’t worry about finding your way there. Your bracelet has a built-in guidance function. It can track your location and guide you to your assigned work area."

Victor looked down at the dark metal bracelet.

So it really does everything.

An alarm clock. A tracking device. A restraint capable of killing him.

The tower had certainly gotten its money’s worth.

The Quartermaster was already looking at the next record on his desk. "It should activate automatically once you leave the office. Follow the directions and you’ll reach Basement Level Three."

Victor turned toward the exit.

"Head there right away," the Quartermaster added without looking up. "It happens to be your first day, so I’ll give you some leeway. But you still don’t want to be late."

Victor stopped for a moment and glanced back.

The Quartermaster was already dealing with the next person in line.

Victor shook his head slightly and walked out of the office.

As soon as he stepped into the hallway, the bracelet on his wrist gave a soft beep.

A faint mark appeared across its surface, followed by a small directional indicator pointing down the corridor.

Victor looked at it.

Then at the corridor.

"Well," he muttered, "I guess I’d better hurry."

He followed the glowing indicator toward Basement Level Three.

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