Mendoza was the head of the Hall of Diplomacy, so I couldn't help but associate her quarters with Novak's.

The first thing I did upon entering was run a nose test.

Pine, citrus, apple… and cucumber. Somewhere in the mix, there was alcohol.

The pine and apple were probably Yellow Pine Bloom, the school's signature blend. Not pure, most likely, but part of a mix.

I felt safe assuming that no serious conversation would be happening just yet. This was a formal welcome, served rich. The real talk would come later, once all the niceties were out of the way.

The reception room stood in clear contrast to Novak's apartments. My master preferred a more cosy European style, homey comfort. Mendoza leaned toward a restrained, even spartan aesthetic. High ceilings, pale walls with the texture of scorched clay. Minimal shelves, almost no decorations, just a tea table and a massive panoramic window overlooking the mountain slope.

Of course there was a view. Anything less would be beneath her station.

Thin pine spires grew from rocky outcrops, twisting into a sort of green curtain above. Lower and to the right stretched the school complex, its towers and domes clearly visible. It wasn't late yet, so the place hadn't lit up with artificial lights.

The tea table stood between us and Mendoza. Dark wood, low, with carved patterns and a polished finish that gave it an antique feel. It might genuinely have been one. On it, a plate of fruits and dried fruit, a classic clay teapot without patterns, and two clay cups. Those were probably for me and Soro. For Novak and Mendoza — a glass bottle and two small shot glasses.

Not bourbon. The bottle was clear glass, and the liquid inside was nearly colourless, just the faintest yellow-green tint.

"Vaclav, it's been too long!"

Sabina Mendoza stepped around the table and gave the master a warm hug, followed by the traditional kiss on the cheek.

Now that, I wasn't expecting.

Novak wore the standard school jumpsuit, though at home he preferred tailored suits, the uniform worked better with armour. Mendoza didn't have that limitation, she could wear whatever she pleased. Yet she, too, had greeted her guests in uniform.

Even in a standard brown school jumpsuit, Master Mendoza looked striking. Not that I'd seen many unattractive cultivators, cultivation tended to keep you in peak condition, but I'd expected more of a master's vibe. Like the dignified lady from the Hall of Order, Liang Shi's master.

Mendoza's hair was black as a raven's wing. Her fitted jumpsuit hugged a strong, flowing figure, the kind with curves that left no doubt she was all woman. Her thick hair was tied in a high knot, and her face looked like it had been pulled straight from a vintage film reel: sharp cheekbones, deep brown eyes, bold brows, and soft red lips.

She didn't look like a master, more like one of Lina's girlfriends, with a matching venomous temperament.

Which, clearly, was a very misleading impression.

Novak introduced me, and I bowed just as deeply and politely as Soro had on the landing pad.

After that, we took our seats at the table. Novak sat with his back to the window.

Looks like there was a seating hierarchy here as well.

Following etiquette and protocol, Novak and Mendoza knocked back a few shots, nibbling on fruit and reminiscing about the past. They might as well have been chatting about the weather.

Soro and I had a cup of what was clearly no ordinary tea. It immediately gave me the urge to do something. I had to suppress it and chase it down with overly sweet dried fruit. But it felt like this was part of the plan. The moment Mendoza noticed we'd finished our cups, she suggested a walk.

"Tamila, give Jake a tour. The young shouldn't be stuck with the old," said the woman who looked more like a stylish grad student than someone pushing two hundred.

The interface, however, claimed she was 196. Then again, the same interface also told me she was late stage four, not early stage five, so I wasn't putting too much faith in it.

Soro and I politely left the apartment, leaving the old folks to talk about important things without the kids around.

"Flyer or board?" Soro asked me in the hallway outside the apartments.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"Whichever's more convenient," I said. "Where are we headed?"

"Number one on every tour list — the Old Pine."

"The one that's almost two thousand years old?"

"That's the one," Soro confirmed.

"And honestly," I asked, "is there anything worth seeing?"

Soro tilted her head and pursed her lips, clearly unimpressed by my question.

"High qi concentration?" she guessed.

"And I suppose cultivation's forbidden."

"Exactly," she nodded. "Same at Black Lotus?"

"Well, I figured it's probably not much different from the Gardens."

"Fair enough, but what are we supposed to do, then?" she asked.

"Well, I'm here to get more familiar with your qi types."

"I thought you were here for demon hunting," said Soro, earning herself a sharp look from me.

She shrugged.

"I'm going to be your shadow, so I need to know what we're dealing with," she said.

"Sorry," I said. "I'm not ready to talk about that until I've had a proper conversation with your master."

"That won't be any time soon," Soro replied, glancing back at the doors. "Might not even be this week…

"Come on, I'll show you your new room. We'll figure things out from there."

"Works for me," I said.

Soro wanted to take a flyer, just in case her master called her back, but that would've meant putting on our armour, with nowhere to take it off at the dorms. So she decided to contact her master and check our plans.

Novak and Mendoza released us for the night, free till morning. We geared up, and Soro suggested we swing by to collect my things.

I told her I didn't travel with luggage.

"You didn't bring essence?" she asked, surprised.

That was my first slip-up.

I had brought essence. And a few packages for acquaintances of senior desciples. But it had all gone into the spatial pocket inside the amulet layered over my armour.

The amulet was something I intended to keep secret, and Novak had approved that approach, so I had to improvise and lie. I told her I wasn't sure if the Queen would let me back onboard without Novak, since I'd left my 'cargo' there. I carefully avoided saying anything specific like 'box' or 'crate'.

Hopefully, Novak would have an empty container lying around to cover my arse later.

For now, the lie held, and we descended into the metro to transfer her gear to the local Armour Hall, the central storage depot.

The metro looked… different. More yellow, a bit of brown, much less black, and no grey at all.

The cadets' jumpsuits were a warm, autumnal yellow, not too bright, paired with a light brown like pine bark.

There was plenty of armour, too, where yellow remained the dominant colour. But cadets here had the freedom to be creative, so the yellow came in every possible shade.

Another difference was the weaponry, often paired with the armour. Overall, there were fewer armed cadets than back home, and those who were armed carried sabres, curved blades of every kind, and long-handled polearms with sweeping arcs.

I didn't stand out at all, and thanks to my colour scheme, I blended in perfectly.

That changed the moment we entered the Armour Hall, when the platform began disassembling my suit.

My grey jumpsuit and the Lotus emblem were attracting far too much attention. Not hostile attention, just attention.

That was the case until Soro brought me to my new room and I changed into a fresh yellow jumpsuit waiting for me in the locker. After that, I blended right into the crowd.

I also used the few minutes of privacy I had while changing to message Novak about the whole container problem.

The new room wasn't much different from my old one. Same general size, just slightly different proportions, so the furniture layout varied a bit. One room with a built-in kitchenette and a separate shower and toilet. Plus a fake window, so the cadet wouldn't feel like they were living in a prison box.

Naturally, the fridge was empty…

Soro noticed me peeking into it and suggested our next stop on the tour.

"Shopping?"

"Absolutely," I said.

Meat, vegetables, tea, and alcohol. Plum wine was hard to find here. Yellow Pine had a thing for local gin, which they added to fruit juice, and sometimes even tea or coffee.

Well, I grabbed some gin and a juice set.

All in all, my first day at Yellow Pine passed calmly and without incident. No one tried to snipe me or poison my drink. I cooked a couple of steaks for dinner and shared them with Soro.

Gin with cherry juice? Pretty damn good.

And in the morning, I had breakfast with two masters. Just me and them.

I was the only one wearing a jumpsuit. Novak was dressed in a dark blue suit, and Mendoza wore a red dress with red coral beads.

I felt like a cow among thoroughbred horses.

But that didn't matter, the discussion was serious.

Novak clearly outlined my duties as a consultant. If possible, I was to avoid direct confrontation with demons and focus on exploring new qi types.

Then Master Mendoza laid out the situation at Yellow Pine.

The main difference with the local demons was that they were far less greedy than ours. They didn't try running a narcotics ring to enrich themselves, for example.

Now and then someone at the school would start dealing substances, but it was usually just recreational, and local security sorted them out quickly.

Mendoza was convinced the demons avoided flashy, high-risk schemes like that.

Still, it was hard to believe they weren't scheming at all.

As we already knew, personal gain, accumulation, and power were the cornerstone of demon philosophy. Not that it differed much from cultivators in general, but demons took it to the extreme. So logically, they had to be doing something to enrich themselves. It was hard to imagine they were just grinding away honestly.

And even so, they'd need a way to transfer accumulated resources from one body to another. Mendoza and her team had already identified several old, dead bodies.

The local demons seemed more competent overall, they rarely resorted to basic suicides. It was still a viable tactic, fast and efficient, especially for first-years where suicide wasn't that suspicious, but for higher tiers, the transitions looked like accidents.

And it takes a very specific kind of accident to kill a Stage Three.

That's why Mendoza's team had strong confidence in the corpses. The real question was: who did the consciousness transfer into?

Honestly? I had no idea how I was supposed to help them with that.

Mendoza spent the next two days in talks with Novak. I used the time to explore the school and convert my Black Lotus points into Yellow Pine ones. Not that I had many left, I'd stocked up well before the trip.

Once Novak got me an empty box, I packed up my goods and started distributing the packages for my seniors.

As for my essence set, I wasn't in a hurry to trade or sell it. Still hadn't decided what to focus on yet.

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