Chapter 68: Information is Wealth
Healing Tower...
13th Floor...
The observation room on the thirteenth floor was quiet.
Emma Rock opened her eyes slowly.
The ceiling was white. Clean. Familiar— she had stared at it enough tis to know every hairline crack in the plaster. The light through the window was afternoon light, golden and low, which ant she had been unconscious longer than she thought.
Peak Master Natasha sat beside the bed, hands folded in her lap, wearing the warmth expression.
"How do you feel?" Natasha asked.
Emma tested her fingers. Her arms. The familiar dull ache in her chest that never fully went away. She nodded slowly.
"Better than last ti, right?" Natasha said. She tilted her head toward the digital clock on the wall. "You recovered three days faster than your previous fall."
Emma blinked. Three days was significant. She knew better than anyone how these attacks usually went— the frost spreading, the yin channels locking, the long painful crawl back to consciousness. Three days faster ant sothing had changed.
"Thank you, Master," she said, her voice still rough. "Did you use a new thod? Sothing different this ti?"
"Not the thod," Natasha said. "The materials. The herbs used in your treatnt this round were in peak condition— better quality than anything core disciples brought back last month. Fresh, properly handled, full potency." She gave a small, satisfied nod. "The results speak for themselves."
Emma was quiet for a mont. "Did you send soone specific to collect them?! Your personal disciples?!"
"No." Natasha’s expression shifted into sothing between amusent and exasperation. "It was Tony Clark. That troubleso rich kid who is currently causing chaos in my tower. You probably haven’t seen him yet— he arrived two days ago. Rode a snow leopard through the academy gates, demanded a personal treatnt room, and sohow managed to scatter my entire patient queue before lunch on his first day." She shook her head. "Very hard to manage. But the herbs he brought were exceptional."
Emma went still.
The na hit her hardly— not pain exactly, more like sothing cold pressing against a bruise. Her fingers, resting on the blanket, curled slightly without her deciding to move them.
"Master." Her voice ca out carefully. "I don’t want that person’s help. Not for my treatnt. Not for anything."
Natasha looked at her. "Emma..."
"I an it." A beat of silence. "Please don’t use anything he brings for my treatnt. I don’t care about the quality."
Natasha studied her face for a long mont, reading sothing there that Emma wasn’t saying out loud. Then she leaned back with a small sigh.
"Don’t worry yourself over it," she said. "Honestly, Tony Clark will be gone within the month regardless. He has to pass the academy entrance examination before his thirty days are up— and from what I can see, that is not a simple matter for soone of his current rank. Once he fails the test, he leaves the academy entirely." She patted Emma’s hand once. "Rest. Eat sothing. He won’t be our concern for long."
Emma let out a slow breath and nodded.
She stared at the ceiling after Natasha left, at the familiar cracks she had morized from too many recoveries in this room. The cold feeling in her chest didn’t go away.
’Gone in one month,’ she told herself.
But for just one second, she rembered what Tony had said when he first t her in the observation room.
"I will heal you. Whether she likes it or not..."
She scoffed quietly at the ceiling. ’Nonsense,’ she decided. Empty words from a talentless fool.
She turned onto her side and closed her eyes.
***
Later that Night...
The courtyard outside Tony’s residence was full.
Thirteen Clark family mbers arranged themselves in a rough semicircle— all of them watching Tony with the alert, slightly-too-formal posture of people trying to demonstrate that they had taken the summons seriously.
Scrolls, written notes, small storage rings with items tucked inside— everyone had brought sothing.
Tony sat on the stone steps of his entrance door, eating an apple, and listened.
One by one they reported. Nas, faces, ranks, backgrounds— the geniuses of all four peaks, the acknowledged troublemakers, the wealthy family heirs who carried their backing like armor, the known bullies who ran specific corridors and task board territories. Who owed who. Who had beef with who. Which outer disciples were loyal to which inner disciples, and which inner disciples were quietly maneuvering for which peak master’s favor.
Tony absorbed all of it without writing anything down. He didn’t need to.
When each person finished, Tony reached into his storage ring.
Body Refining Pills went to the three who had brought the most detailed and verified information. Small white pills that looked unremarkable and cost a considerable amount of Clark family-money. The eyes of the recipients went wide before they controlled their expressions.
Contribution point crystals and cash went to the rest— fair amounts, calibrated to the quality of what they had brought. Nobody walked away empty-handed. Nobody walked away with more than they had earned.
The calculation was not lost on the group. Tony Clark, the prince who used to bully people for sport, was now paying them precisely according to performance. No favoritism. No random cruelty. Just a clean transaction with clear rules.
A few of them exchanged glances on the way out.
Slowly the courtyard emptied— footsteps fading down the mountain path, the oil lamps along the slope casting moving shadows until the last of them disappeared around the bend.
But one fellow, Sunil stayed.
He was the last one in the courtyard, standing near the gate with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting with the patience. Tony looked at him... Then looked past him.
"Where is Fatty Lin?!" Tony asked, taking another bite of the apple.
"I don’t know, young master." Sunil stepped forward and straightened up. "He was with
until this morning, then disappeared without a word. We worked together to gather the information you requested— split the territory between us to cover more ground faster." He paused. "Before he left, he ntioned he was chasing sothing specific. He didn’t say what."
Tony chewed thoughtfully. "And your information?"
"The person behind your placent in the Healing Tower, young master," Sunil said, lowering his voice to a careful hush even though the courtyard was now empty. "It was the first prince. Mark Smith. The Imperial family used their connections inside the academy to arrange your assignnt specifically." He paused again for effect. "Through the Vice Academy Master — Rutherford."
Tony looked at him. His expression didn’t change.
"Not the Academy Master himself?!" he asked.
"No, young master. Academy Master Da Vinci appears to be uninvolved. It’s Rutherford who has the direct connection to the Imperial family. He processed the assignnt personally and made sure it looked routine." Sunil t his eyes. "It was deliberate from the beginning."
Tony’s eyes narrowed.
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