When Delan Ren once more regained consciousness, it was with a grogginess that she was most unaccustomed to. As a cultivator, she was used to waking with the sort of alertness and energy that a mere mortal might only be able to experience through the use of stimulants.

Instead, she felt slow and lethargic, as if her entire body were wrapped in cotton. More to the point, she was warm and mostly comfortable. It was all she could do not to allow herself to nod off back to sleep. The only thing stopping her was a strange niggling in the back of her mind and a peculiar half-felt phantom pain in her-

She shot up in her bed, heart racing as she recalled her last memories.

She had been struck. Once in the chest. Then again in the arm less than a moment later. Then again. Repeatedly. All across her body. It had been a deluge of blows accompanied by a cacophony of noise. Shouting. Then blessed silence.

It was an oddly familiar feeling.

Once, when she was younger and more foolish, she had made an attempt to garner the attention of another sect aspirant. That of the only male within her intake. Naturally, young Sun Yang was the apple of many a young woman’s eye. He was a cute boy, who like her, hailed from the Northern reaches of the Empire.

A younger Ren had believed that their shared origin provided her some opportunity, and perhaps even a right, to attempt to get to know her fellow aspirant.

It had not. Her few attempts to engage him had been rebuffed with little more than tired disinterest.

Worse still, in doing so, she failed to give face to those aspirants within her sect whose strength meant they were to be given right of first refusal in the courting process. Her seniors, both in cultivation and political standing.

She was in effect, a toad lusting after the flesh of a swan.

Her trespass had not gone without comment. Nor should it have been. As a cultivator, no resource was more important than that of face. Certainly, it came with expectations and requirements, but it also provided great dividends. As such, despite being an ephemeral concept whose value could and did fluctuate with context, many of the rules surrounding it were as real and rigid as steel.

Women - and occasionally men – would and did kill for it everyday.

So it was that she considered herself fortunate, that when the strongest aspirant of her intake chose – or perhaps was instructed to by her own betters - to exchange pointers with a young Ren, the other girl chose to only break a few bones.

An act of restraint Ren was still thankful for to this day – even if face obligated that one day she return the favor in kind.

…The immediate aftermath of that beating felt rather similar to how she felt right now. Battered. Bruised. Broken in a few places. Liable to piss blood for a few days. It was all remarkably familiar.

As was the sensation of a blurry figure leaning over her – though this one was much larger than the aged mortal apothecary who once tended to a much younger Ren all those years ago.

No, instead she noted with some distant fright that it was Master Johansen himself sitting in a chair across from her rather comfortable bed. Still clad in his austere metal armor, he looked strangely out of place amongst the elegant furnishings of her temporary home.

It was also at that moment that she realized she was rather naked under the silken sheets of her covers. Despite the circumstances, she couldn’t help but feel herself flush at the insinuation that the hidden master had-

“I didn’t see anything.” The man spoke without looking up from whatever the strange tablet in his hands was. “Just getting that out there first. After you… passed out, An was the one to carry you off the field and up here. My only contribution was the vital monitor on your wrist.”

Oh, that was both a relief and a disappointment.

Glancing down, Ren did in fact see that some kind of flat disk rested on her wrist, held there assumedly by some kind of adhesive.

Another enchantment, no doubt, she thought absently.

“I assume this was to be some manner of lesson in maintaining ones awareness?” she asked.

The man cocked his head. “No?”

“Surely you cannot mean to claim that it was not you who struck me?”

Certainly, Master Johansen had been nowhere near her at the start of their ‘duel’, but she would not put it past a master to have been able to cross the distance and engage her before she noticed. Certainly, it would have required some manner of high level movement technique, but nothing she had seen thus far suggested Master Johansen was anything less than a top tier master.

The featureless helm of the hidden master seemed to regard her for long moments. “I think you’re being deliberately obtuse here. I didn’t strike you. You took a full salvo of rubber bullets to your… everywhere when you chose to walk at my militia.”

“Bullshit.”

It actually took her a moment to realize the word had issued forth from her own mouth. At which point she felt herself paling as almost all the blood in her face seemed to drain away.

She waited with bated breath for an inevitable chastisement for her thoughtless rudeness, but none was forthcoming. Master Johansen merely sat there.

“It’s not bullshit.” Empress help her, the man actually seemed amused. “Though I will apologize. It seemed the munitions I employed were more powerful than I anticipated. To that end, I’ve already created a weaker variant for future demonstrations.”

“Weaker?” Her tone was dry, the words once more issuing forth before she could stop herself. ”Are you actually trying to offend me now?”

This time though, rather than paling at the uncharacteristic slip, she felt herself flushing. What was she saying!? Why was she talking like this!? She was a proud merchant of the Jade Fang Consortium – not some addled girl!

She paused.

With a sudden surety, she pulsed ki through her body and felt the foreign chemicals in her system. The drugs coursing through her blood had no Ki in them, which was why she hadn’t noticed them immediately. Rare were the mortal poisons that might challenge a cultivator’s nigh indomitable constitution. Whatever drugs she had been dosed with,they were potent to have affected her so greatly in spite of her cultivation.

Now she just needed to – subtly – make her displeasure known to the obscenely powerful man across from her for choosing to drug her, even as she started to purge-

“Ugh,” she hissed as her… everything erupted with pain.

She had thought her body ached before. That was nothing compared to the screaming of her nerves now.

“Ah, An said you would do that.” She heard the hidden master say distantly. “I suppose it’s understandable. You wake up in a strange place, with a strange guy, with a strange drug running through your veins. I’d likely be thinking about pumping my stomach too.”

“Yes.” Ren nodded slowly, though she had little understanding as to why this hypothetical person’s gender had anything to do with it.

If anything, she’d rather such a person be male. Ignoring all other factors, a male cultivator would likely be weaker than a woman and thus easier to defeat should they mean her harm.

She placed a hand against her aching side. “I take it that the substances I just purged from my system were…”

“Painkillers, yes.”

Well, wasn’t that just great. Not only was she now in considerable pain, she’d essentially just spat on the hidden master’s kindness by purging what were very likely some very expensive medicines from her body.

And of course, now I need to pee, she thought. Desperately.

Because the impurities she’d purged now needed to physically leave her body somehow. For most, that occurred through sweat. Less common was vomiting. Rarer still was to have the impurities leave the same way that… most solid food did. The rarest of all though? They urinated them out.

Ren was one of those lucky few.

She hated it. In addition to being just plain uncomfortable, it ran contrary to her carefully cultivated image as a cultured and sophisticated young woman of wealth and taste.

“Would you like a glass of water?” The hidden master’s voice was full of kindness. “An said you might be thirsty after purging? I, uh, of course don’t get thirsty after such a low level technique. Being a hidden master.”

Ren barely heard the latter half of his statement. Instead, she focused entirely on the irritation building within her at the name of her distant tormentor. How that mangy cat knew Ren was a… golden purger, she did not know.

What she did know was that she would have that cat suffer for tormenting her in her moment of weakness like this!

Even as she was swearing vengeance something shifted in her abdomen.

After I find the nearest toilet, she thought somewhat desperately. Empress above, please don’t let this humble Delan Ren wet herself in front of a hidden master.

-----------

She didn’t. Wet herself that is. It was a close run thing though.

Still, all that was behind her – beyond her inevitable vengeance on the cat. Satisfied, Ren strode out into the evening air. Admittedly, it was more of a hobble than a stride, but she needed to maintain some level of decorum.

Which was why she refused to accept her servant’s offers to bring around her palanquin. So instead they trailed behind her like worried ducklings. Fortunately for her sanity, Master Johansen magnanimously gave her face by choosing not to comment on her limp or the concerns of her followers. Instead, he simply slowed his powerful gait to match her own much more tentative one.

It was almost enough for her to forgive him for putting her in this position to begin with.

Almost.

“How long was I indisposed?”

“Just a few hours.” Master Johansen said as they walked towards the training grounds, where even now she could hear the crackle of… something. “Given my rubber bullets cracked a number of bones, I imagine you might have been out of commission for weeks if you were a mortal.”

She nodded, even as an expression of befuddlement crossed her face. Of course she would heal faster than mortals?

Speaking of mortals, she still didn’t believe it was the militia that had hurt her. Some part of her was still desperately hoping that this was some kind of test or trick on the part of Master Johansen.

Before long, they’d reached the familiar scenery of the training area. A training area that was still filled with members of the town’s militia, despite the approaching late hour. Mortals were not the only ones present within the great open area though. Rather, it was a great block of them facing off against a single solitary figure.

The cat, she thought irritably.

That irritation was secondary though to her curiosity at seeing just how these gonnes worked. Even as she watched, a single line of mortals leveled their strange deformed spears towards An. Despite herself, she shivered, phantom pains rippling through her body, as those strange spears boomed loudly and puffs of dirt kicked up all around An’s feet.

Fortunately for the cat – and much to Ren’s irritation – she had not made an easy target of herself. She remained at a distance, her small form flitting back and forth. Thus, a majority of those deadly fast projectiles missed. Only a single one of the blue tipped bolts seemed to be on an intercept course, and it was with almost laughable ease that the cat woman deflected it with her glaive.

Watching all this, Ren felt some part of her sink. While she knew it was foolish, some part of her had refused to accept she’d been defeated by mere mortals. She’d raged against the very idea. Because another part of her was terrified. If that fact ever got out her reputation would be gone. She would be the laughing stock of the province. A woman without face.

And those without face do not last long in our world, she thought grimly.

Yet faced with this scene, she could see the mechanics of how it had happened. She had walked, fat and happy straight into the militia’s waiting gonnes.

“Obviously, we’ve retooled the bullets since your attempt. Decreased the size of the metal rod at the centre of the round.” Master Johansen spoke conversationally, as if they were not discussing a topic that might shake the very foundations of the Empire itself. “I had them delivered here an hour ago.”

Ren watched as the mortals fired again – and once more the cat remained untouched, though it was clear she only remained so by staying at a distance. “That is a very fast turnaround time for the creation of a new form of ammunition.”

The man shrugged carelessly. “I am quite fast.”

“So I see.”

Despite her words, Ren was feeling somewhat numb as she processed that she really had been defeated by mortals.

Seeking to distract herself, she gazed out at the training yard. Even as she watched, An seemed to be edging closer to the militia. With each salvo she was growing more and more comfortable with dodging the mortal’s incredibly fast bolts. The only reason she wasn’t simply running at them while they reloaded was that the mortals seemed to be firing in staggered lines. And the closer she got the more accurate the mortals would become - and the less time she would have to dodge or deflect those projectiles that were set to intercept her.

For even the lightning fast reflexes of a cultivator have limits – and these gonnes push them to the very most extreme, she thought.

Still, the cat pushed on.

“She seems eager,” Ren said conversationally.

“She’s probably after the reward.”

The dog woman felt her ears perk up. “A reward?”

“Nothing too exciting. It’s a best of ten. If the militia wins the most bouts, I’ve promised them extra beer rations.”

“And what of Lady An?”

For Ren sincerely doubted something as base as ‘beer’ would motivate any cultivator worthy of the name.

Even one as crude as the cat, she thought.

“You know, I… don’t know what she would want.” The man’s head tilted. “Truth be told, I didn’t expect her to do so well after…”

He paused awkwardly, but Ren filled him in.

“After what happened to me.”

She wanted to scoff. These Gonnes were impressive, but she had been taken off guard. By contrast, An knew exactly what to expect of these new weapons and was trying to exploit that to find an opening.

“Yes, quite.” The man coughed awkwardly. “Well, I suppose I’ll just ask her once they’re done.”

Ren nodded, before looking up at him, an idea forming in her head.

“Do you intend to run more drills like this?”

He nodded. “Sure, I don’t see why I wouldn’t.”

She smiled. “Then I would be happy to partake of this competition. Once I am recovered.”

Which hopefully wouldn’t take more than a day or two, given she had a number of healing reagents in her personal effects. Nothing as effective as a proper cultivator versed in the subject, but the herbs she had access to would suffice to hurry along her mostly superficial injuries.

He glanced over at her. “I’ll admit that I’m a little surprised you’d be so eager to try again after your injuries.”

That actually offended her. “I am a cultivator. Injuries in training are nothing new.”

Neither was pain.

“Fair enough.” It seemed that despite her best attempts to hide it, some of her hidden irritation must have made itself known to the hidden cultivator for his words were almost… sympathetic.

She would have none of that.

“Still, despite, or perhaps because of, my injury at their hand, I find myself interested in these gonnes. How many might I be able to purchase and at what price?”

“None and none.” His tone was flat. “I’ll supply you with gold and iron in return for food, but I have no intention of selling gonnes to anyone. The only reason I showed them to you in the first place was to prove that my people were capable of protecting any shipments you sent out.”

Ren paused. Surely, she had just misheard. “I’m sorry, you say that you intend to keep these weapons to yourself, but you also intend to send your mortal guards out with them.”

“Yeah.” Once more, despite her best efforts, her incredulity must have shown in her tone, for the man sounded almost… defensive.

"Then you will not be the sole owner of these weapons for long. Your convoys will be attacked. By groups claiming to be ‘bandits’. At first, for the food or materials, but then most certainly for the weapons your people hold.”

“My gonnes dropped you,” he said irritably. “Warding off angry spirit beasts and cultivators is the whole point of them.

Ren was in full merchant mindset mode now. Which was why she didn’t take offence at his claim that his weapons ‘dropped her’. Instead, she took note of his irritation and moved to assuage it.

“Oh certainly, Master Johansen. Your gonnes are undoubtedly a powerful tool. Revolutionary even. But no tool is infallible. Your gonnes will be effective against both cultivators and spirit beasts alike, but that effectiveness will diminish as their capabilities become known.”

She gestured to the training grounds. “At range they are deadly, but how effective would the men holding them be if they were ambushed? Against a single cultivator, fifty men armed with gonnes might be able to overcome such a disadvantage.” She paused. “Against five or ten though?”

As An was proving, a large swathe of men with gonnes could hold a cultivator at bay with staggered shots, but the effectiveness of such a stratagem would diminish with an increase in targets. Even a middling cultivator would have no problem dodging the shots of a mere five gonne armed guardsmen, staggered or not.

“It is ironic, that the tools you would supply to your people to protect them would ultimately only draw danger to them.”

The man tsked irritably. “I don’t see many options. I won’t send my people out with just spears again. It’s too damn risky with spirit beasts wandering around.”

The ‘or cultivators’ went unspoken. Silence reigned between the two of them, broken only by the irregular crackle of gonne fire.

Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. “Alright, I know a woman with a plan when I see one, so I may as well ask, what do you want?”

Ren almost blinked in surprise. That was a lot easier than she’d anticipated. Rare was the cultivator that would listen to the ideas of a lesser. She’d been expecting to have to prompt and wheedle for a few hours before reaching this point.

Yet it seemed that once more this strange cultivator had surprised her.

“Make them an Imperial interest.”

Because of the helm it was impossible to gauge the man’s reaction, but Ren would have been willing to bet good money that his expression read as interested.

So she continued.

“Sell your gonnes to the Overseer herself. Doing so will mark our convoys Imperial Army supplies. Which will make them untouchable to those who might otherwise covet their content.”

For a given value of the word. Nothing was ‘untouchable’ within the politics of the Empire. Still, it was about as close as a single hidden master hid out in the boonies might get.

Intercepting supplies that were marked for the Imperial Army carried heavy penalties. Including, but not limited to, nine-fold familial execution.

Happy he was listening, she continued. “You will need to talk to General Gengix herself, but…”

Her words came to a stop as he raised a single gauntleted hand. “I’m not interested in leaving Jiangshi. I’ve got too many ongoing projects here to leave them for any amount of time.”

Ren frowned. Because of course the hidden master would find some issue with her plan. She shouldn’t have been too surprised. The man had been eminently reasonable thus far, but he was a hidden master.

That he refused to leave this hovel was apparently just part and parcel of this particular madman’s quirks.

“So you can negotiate this deal for me.”

It actually took a second for Ren to register the man’s words.

“I, uh…” For the first time in a long time, words failed her.

“We’ll draw up a contract. Make it all nice and official. Then you can take a few of my weapons off to the city and show them off to this general of yours.”

Ren was barely keeping up? He wanted her to negotiate? With the Overseer? This was a deal so far over her head it beggared belief.

She had certainly planned to remain involved, but that involvement was supposed to have been limited to directing the hidden master’s interest towards the Jade Fang Consortium itself.

Sure, the idea had burned at her, essentially having to step aside to let the clad heads take over negotiations, but that was the reality of her lowly position. She was simply too… small to take on such a big contract.

Still…

She licked her lips. “If you wish for me to be the one to negotiate on your behalf rather than the Jade Fang Consortium itself… you will need to specify that in the contract itself.”

Once more that weighty helm seemed to regard her. It was all she could do not to fidget under its gaze.

“Then I will say as much in our contract.”

She nearly sagged in relief. She marshalled herself instead though, giving the man a crisp bow.

“This Delan Ren is honored by the great one’s faith. She will do everything in her power to meet the expectations he has laid upon her.”

“I’ll be expecting a bit of tit for tat for keeping you in the loop.”

It was not hard to parse the man’s strange colloquialisms.

“Of course, great one.” She bowed again.

It seemed that despite being a hidden master, the man still understood the game of favors and debts that underpinned the relations of the Empire.

“Good, you start writing up a contract and and I’ll look it over.”

She bowed a third time. “Of course.”

Sensing the dismissal for what it was, she hobbled off as best she could given her injuries. She barely noticed them though, as her head swam with legalese and business terms. This was a huge contract. One that would see her position within the Jade Fang skyrocket if she pulled it-

“Oh, and Ren?”

She paused, turning back to face the armored man.

“Please make it fast. If what you said is true, this Marble Sect will start sniffing around my business soon. I’d originally just planned to send them packing, but if your plan can bypass that…”

Ren froze. She’d completely forgotten about the Marble Sect!

Wait!? She thought frantically. Did he just say he meant to fight the entire sect!?

No, that was madness.

Could she negotiate with them in his stead?

No, she dismissed that idea almost as soon as she’d had it. The Marble Sect were stubborn and proud, even by the standards of sects.

The fight would happen – and the Hidden Master would lose, even with his gonnes. One man could not fight an entire sect.

Unfortunate, but it is fortunate that this Delan Ren is a kind and magnanimous soul.

When the Hidden Master did lose his one man war, she would be nearby. Ready to pick up the pieces. To convey him to her estate in the city. With a warm hand and a comforting smile.

Perhaps I might even convince him to leave the cat behind?

Yes. She could work with this.

----------

It was hours later and Jack was in his ‘office’ when An strode in. He wasn’t too surprised by her presence. His mining complex had a number of security doors between his office and the surface. He’d known she was coming.

He also knew why.

His cameras around the training fields had shown her ultimate victory over the militia. Six to four.

It was a little disappointing for him. He’d hoped for better from his gonnes. It seemed that Ren was right though. They were impressive tools, but they alone weren’t enough to bridge the gap between mortal and cultivators.

Even lower level cultivators.

That was fine though. He had plenty more tricks up his sleeve. Including the one he’d been working on before An strode in.

Putting the holographic interface aside, he met the soot stained young woman with a smile. One that was returned – if with a lot more teeth involved from the cat woman.

“I am triumphant master.”

“I saw.” He grinned, gesturing to the screens behind him.

It said a lot about how familiar An was becoming with his technological feats that she didn’t even blink at the brand new array of screens dotting the wall behind his desk. Instead, she took it in stride.

Which was one of the things he liked about her. Not only was she hardworking, she was adaptable.

For just a moment, she seemed to hesitate, before powering on like she usually did. “I would request my prize.”

“I thought as much.” Still smiling, Jack flitted through his interface. “I actually have just the-”

She bowed. "Apologies master. Please forgive this foolish disciple, but my request will not be for more profound knowledge. Nor will it be base gold or enchanted tools.”

“Oh?” Jack paused, fingers hovering over the designs for something he’d been rather excited about once the idea had come to him.

“I…” An paused. “I wish to know why you will not…” It was actually rather impressive how much color the woman’s usually sun kissed features could take on.

“Breathe, An.” He chuckled. “Talk it through.”

Though he would admit he was now curious as to what she wanted. Subservient as the cultivator might have been, he’d never once known her to be so hesitant since she’d gotten to know him. If anything, he’d though her rather unflappable.

It was actually kind of cute to see her so flustered.

“I wish to… know why you will not lay with me!” she finally shouted.