Chapter 4: Mo Family
Hiss... pop...
The recovery unit slowly opened with a soft release of pressurized steam. Mo Seven's eyes slowly snapped open, his vision started adjusting to the sterile, and bright white lights of the hospital ceiling.
"I'm... not dead?" His first thought was that he'll see a flash of white light. And the Spirits-like Godly being mocking face. He had expected to be back in that cold and void hall, getting yelled at or punished for dying again. But the air here smelled of antiseptic and ozone, not cosmic dust or Godly energy. He sat up abruptly, his hands flying to his leg and his arm.
Flex. Grip.
They were both perfect. No pain. And No crooked bones. Thanks to high-tech medical pods and healers with [Restoration] Divine Essences, his shattered limbs had been knitted back together within hours.
"The girl," Seven whispered to himself, his voice was raspy. "Did she make it?"
The image of the little girl's terrified face flashed in his mind. He remembered the weight of the Rakshasa's gauntlet and the sound of his own bone snapping from kicking it. He had gambled his life for a stranger. Yet He didn't regret it, but still he felt a surge of anger toward the sky.
"You see that, you hateful Gods?" he thought bitterly. "I survived. You tried to make me a Null so I'd crawl in the dirt, but I'm still standing. I can trip people from down here in the dirt"
The door suddenly slid open with a smooth shhh. A doctor in a pale blue lab coat walked in, while checking a digital tablet. He looked up and gave Seven a sympathetic smile.
"You're awake. Good. You had us worried, young man. A low cultivation human taking a hit from a Black-Haired Rakshasa? It's a miracle you have a body left to heal."
"The girl?" Seven immediately asked.
"Oh! She's fine. Her mother took her home. You're the hero of the hour on the news," the doctor said, though his smile slightly faded. "Now, I need to fill out your discharge papers. Can you give me your emergency contact? Your parents or guardians?"
Seven's heart did not beat with joy. It sank like a stone thrown into a dark well.
The Mo Family.
Images of his so-called "home" flooded his mind like a horror movie. He saw his dear father, Mo Daichi, a high-ranking Military Officer of the advanced cultivation level. A level above mortal cultivation level. His divine essence was called [Homing Strike] Any projectile or object that he fires or throws "locks on" to the target's spiritual signature. Even if the target dodges, the attack curves in the air to chase them down. He remembered the time he was just ten, showing his father a drawing he had made. Daichi hadn't even bothered to look at it. He had just stared at Seven's lack of a divine essence and said, "Don't speak to me until you can at least manifest a essence. You are a stain and a shame on this uniform." Then there was his mother, Mo Lin. A researcher of the advanced cultivation level who always saw the world in data. Her divine essence was called [Gravity Field] She generates a heavy zone around her. Enemies entering the field are instantly slowed down or crushed to the ground by intense gravitational pressure. Seven remembered a dinner where she had described him as "genetic waste". She treated him like a servant, a mistake she had to hide from her elite friends.
And his little brother Ren. The "Golden Child." The brother who got the best care, the best tutors, and all the love. Ren, who used his [Homing Gravity] to pin Seven to the wall just to hear him gasp for air. [Homing Gravity]: A fusion of "Homing strike " and "gravity field." He can fire projectiles that chase the enemy. Upon impact (or at will), he can multiply the object's weight instantly. With a limit of 200kg based on his cultivation and can only control one projectile at a time.
"I have no one," Seven said to the doctor, his voice was cold and flat.
The doctor froze for a brief second, his eyes softening with deep pity. He looked at Seven's worn-out shoes and the old-model com-brace on his wrist. He didn't bother to ask further. He knew the look of a child who had been discarded by the elite.
"I see," the doctor sighed. "Listen, kid. The bills for a recovery unit are... expensive. Since you have no contact, the hospital has to definitely charge you. But... you saved that girl. I'll put the balance on a long-term loan. You can pay it back when you're older. Consider it a 'hero's discount'."
"Thank you, Doctor," Seven muttered.
The doctor began scrolling through Seven's vitals. "Let's see... Heart rate: Normal. Bone density: Restored. Nervous system: Stable. Divine Essence: Fine. No damages there."
Seven's head instantly snapped up. "What did you say?"
"Your Essence. It's fine," the doctor said, while looking confused.
"That's impossible," Seven thought to himself. his pulse became fast. "I don't have an Essence. I'm Null." he thought.
As soon as the doctor had stepped out to grab the discharge papers, Seven focused his mind. In this world, the "System". a global interface linked to the Spirit Dimension. was second nature. Everyone could see their own status using it.
"Status," Seven whispered.
Then a translucent blue screen shimmered into existence before his eyes. And Only he could see it.
[NAME: Mo Seven
Spiritual Points: None
Divine Essence: No God
Spiritual Beast Essence: None]
Seven's jaw immediately dropped. As The words burned into his retinas.
[Divine Essence: No God]
"How?!" his mind screamed. "You're born with an Essence! You don't just wake up with one at Seventeen! It's impossible!"
Then, the memory of the blackout hit him. The white-haired man. The Zenith.
His unclear words "You move before your brain even registered..."
"You deserve this..."
He remembered the small, and warm light that had flown from Kaelen Vance's finger into his body. It hadn't been an illusion. The world's strongest cultivator had given him... something.
"Did he give me a power? No... that's not how it works. But 'No God'... that was his divine essence, I remember him mentioning it in an interview. The Zenith's ability is now in my status?"
"How?"
Before he could properly process the world-shaking realization, he looked at the clock on the wall.
10:30 PM.
"Oh no," Seven gasped. And Panic suddenly replaced his shock. He knew what awaited him if he was late for home.
He scrambled out of the bed, ignored the doctor's calls, and ran out of the hospital. He sprinted through the neon-lit streets of Hope City, his lungs were burning. He reached the gates of the Mo Estate. It was a massive, high-tech fortress of floating gardens and silver walls with runes. It was like magic mixed with tech.
As soon as he reached the front door, the heavy metal slab slid open.
There stood Mo Lin. His mother. She wasn't wearing a smile of relief. She was holding a heavy, and reinforced leather belt, her face was twisted in a mask of cold fury.
"Do you have any idea," she began, her voice like a sharp, and icy blade, "what you have done to our reputation today?"
Seven's breath hitched. "Mother, I... there was an alien... the girl..."
"Silence!" she hissed. And stepped forward into the light. "I saw the news. I saw you on the screen, looking like a beggar, and groveling in the dirt while the Zenith had to clean up your mess. Do you know how much your hospital bill is gonna cost? Do you know the shame of having a 'Mo' name associated with a Null-Cultivation failure?"
"I saved a life, mom" Seven said, while his voice was trembling with a mix of fear and old, buried anger.
"You wasted resources!" she screamed. She raised the belt, increasing the weight of it with her divine essence and lashed out. WHACK! The leather bit into Seven's shoulder, tearing the fresh skin. Seven winced in pain, but he didn't cry out. He had learned long ago that crying only made her strike harder.
"My son, Ren, was supposed to be the one to meet the Zenith!" she mocked, while dragging Seven into the foyer by his collar. "Ren has a unique talent! He is a genius! And yet it's the trash who gets the camera time? I pray every night the Gods take you back and give me a son I can actually be proud of."
In the living room, Mo Daichi was situated on a floating sofa, while swiping through military reports on his com-brace. He didn't even look up as his wife whipped their eldest son.
"Lin, stop shouting," Daichi calmly said, his voice sounding like a gavel. "You'll wake Mo Ren. He needs his sleep for the special recommendation trials tomorrow."
He finally looked at Seven, his eyes were filled with pure, and clinical disgust. "In one year, you turn eighteen. The day you do, we are filing the legal papers to disown you. You will no longer be a Mo. You will be nothing."
Seven stood there, his body was shaking, the sting of the belt burning on his back. He looked at his father. the man with [Homing Strike]. and his mother. the woman with [Gravity Field]. They looked like gods in their silver robes, looking down at a mare bug.
"I'll pay the hospital bill," Seven whispered, his eyes casting a shadow over his face. "I'll find a job. I'll replace my uniform. Just... please. Stop."