The man who wanted to buy Kade’s name offered fifty thousand naira.
Unfortunately, he made the offer to someone else.
Kade discovered this at eleven seventeen on a Tuesday morning, while sitting in Mama Efe’s clinic with his injured ankle elevated on a pillow.
Tobi was examining the clinic’s electricity bill.
"Thirty-eight thousand?" he exclaimed. "For this place? Does NEPA charge extra for emotional suffering?"
Mama Efe didn’t look up from her ledger.
"Put that down."
"I’m investigating financial crimes."
"Investigate your own debts."
Kade smiled.
Then Bamidele entered.
The smile disappeared.
The repairman had forgotten to greet anyone.
That was never a good sign.
"Something happened," Kade said.
Bamidele closed the door.
"Someone came to my shop."
Tobi lowered the bill.
"Customer?"
"Not exactly."
Bamidele pulled up a chair.
"He wanted information about a young man without an Ase Core."
Silence settled over the room.
Kade’s fingers tightened around his notebook.
"What did you tell him?"
"That I repair phones."
"Did he believe you?"
"He offered fifty thousand naira."
Tobi blinked.
"For information?"
"For a name."
Tobi slowly turned toward Kade.
"Your name has become more valuable than your entire financial history."
"Comforting."
Bamidele didn’t smile.
"He said the inquiry came from someone associated with one of the Seven Houses."
Kade went still.
He remembered the name from Bamidele’s earlier warnings.
The Seven Houses.
People powerful enough that even other cultivators spoke of them carefully.
"Which House?" he asked.
"I wasn’t told."
"Was the man a cultivator?"
"Spark Realm, from what I could sense. Possibly stronger if he was concealing himself."
"Did he threaten you?"
"Not directly."
Bamidele rubbed his forehead.
"He left a contact card."
He placed it on the table.
Plain cream paper.
A telephone number.
And beneath it, seven small circles arranged around a larger one.
No split eye.
No name.
Kade studied the card.
"Can you identify the symbol?"
"No."
"Then how do we know he’s connected to the Seven Houses?"
"We don’t," Bamidele replied. "We know what he claimed."
Kade nodded.
That distinction mattered.
Especially now.
Mama Efe examined the card without touching it.
"Are you planning to call?"
"No," Kade answered.
"Good."
Tobi looked disappointed.
"I was hoping we’d negotiate."
Kade stared at him.
"Negotiate what?"
"At least increase the offer. Fifty thousand is insulting."
"He’s buying my identity, not my football boots."
"Exactly. Your football boots would be worth more."
Mama Efe pointed toward the door.
"Tobi."
"Yes, ma?"
"Go and buy bread."
He stood immediately.
"How much?"
She handed him money.
"Don’t return with biscuits."
"That accusation is unfair."
"You did it yesterday."
"Yesterday was a different economy."
He left before she could respond.
Kade watched the door close.
Then looked at Bamidele.
"How many people know about me?"
The repairman hesitated.
"The woman who confronted you. The hunter. Whoever sent them, assuming they were sent."
"And the shrine?"
"It registered something. We don’t know who received it."
Kade glanced at the card.
"So this could be connected."
"Yes."
"Or someone heard rumours."
"Also possible."
Kade exhaled.
His existence had become valuable to strangers.
Not because of anything he’d accomplished.
Because of something missing from his body.
An Ase Core. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
He remembered Bamidele’s warning.
People collect abnormalities.
At the time, it had sounded dramatic.
Now someone had offered money for his name.
Bamidele leaned forward.
"There’s another reason I came."
Kade waited.
"An injured boy can’t spend his life hiding in a clinic."
Mama Efe looked up.
"He can until his ankle improves."
"I agree."
"Good."
"But eventually he’ll need to understand what he’s facing."
Kade straightened.
"Then teach me."
Bamidele shook his head.
"I’m Spark Realm, Kade. I can show you how ordinary cultivators use Ase. I can’t teach you techniques that require a Core you don’t have."
"Then teach me what to watch for."
The repairman considered him.
Kade continued.
"The woman in grey needed concentration to maintain her thread. The hunter needed a clear line of sight."
"Yes."
"Those limitations helped us escape."
Bamidele nodded slowly.
"That’s something I can teach."
Mama Efe pointed at Kade’s ankle.
"From that bed."
Kade sighed.
"Naturally."
Bamidele placed three objects on the table.
A screwdriver.
A metal washer.
A short length of copper wire.
Tobi returned halfway through the arrangement, carrying bread and the unmistakable smell of roasted groundnuts.
Mama Efe narrowed her eyes.
"What’s in your pocket?"
"Personal property."
"Tobi."
He surrendered the groundnuts.
Kade grinned.
Bamidele tapped the table.
"Pay attention."
He picked up the washer.
A faint amber glow gathered around his fingers.
Kade activated NIGHT SIGHT.
The glow sharpened.
Thin streams of Ase moved from Bamidele’s body toward the metal.
"Most techniques require three things," Bamidele said. "Energy, control, and a way to direct the effect."
He placed the washer down.
It remained faintly warm.
"At Spark Realm, my control is limited. I can reinforce small objects, produce minor bursts, and sense some spiritual disturbances."
Kade watched closely.
"Can you do that without moving?"
"Some techniques, yes."
"Without looking?"
"Depends on the technique."
"Without touching the object?"
Bamidele smiled faintly.
"Now you’re asking useful questions."
He moved the washer several inches away.
The amber glow faded.
"Distance matters. So does familiarity. So does the amount of energy available."
Kade opened ANALYZE.
[TARGET: SPIRITUAL ENERGY MANIPULATION]
[OBSERVED PROPERTY: ENERGY TRANSFER THROUGH PHYSICAL CONTACT]
[ADDITIONAL PARAMETERS: INSUFFICIENT DATA]
No secret technique appeared.
No weakness conveniently revealed itself.
Just what the System could actually observe.
Kade dismissed the interface.
"Do it again," he said.
Bamidele raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
"I want to see when the energy begins moving."
They spent forty minutes examining small demonstrations.
Bamidele showed how reinforcing an object required sustained attention.
How interrupting that attention could weaken the effect.
How a cultivator’s physical position sometimes revealed where a technique would travel.
He also demonstrated the limits of those observations.
At one point, Kade confidently predicted that Bamidele needed to look at the washer to reinforce it.
Bamidele closed his eyes.
The washer glowed.
Tobi burst out laughing.
Kade frowned.
"That’s cheating."
"That’s learning," Bamidele replied.
The lesson was simple.
An observed limitation wasn’t necessarily a universal rule.
A weakness that worked against one cultivator might fail against another.
Kade wrote it down.
For the first time since the System awakened, he felt he was learning something he could deliberately use.
Not a new power.
A method.
Watch.
Test.
Adapt.
Survive.
By late afternoon, Bamidele had returned to his shop.
Mama Efe was preparing medication for another patient.
Tobi sat beside Kade, examining the cream card.
"Seven circles," he murmured.
"Don’t touch it too much."
"I’m looking."
"With your fingers."
"That’s traditionally how holding works."
Kade took the card.
Seven smaller circles surrounding one larger circle.
He remembered the split-eye symbol.
Two different marks.
Two different mysteries.
There was no reason yet to assume they belonged together.
He slipped the card into an empty envelope.
"Kunle still wants to meet tomorrow," Tobi said.
Kade nodded.
"The old letter?"
"Yes. He says he’ll bring it sealed."
"Public place?"
"That’s what he suggested."
Kade looked at his ankle.
He could manage short distances with support, but the swelling hadn’t completely disappeared.
A long journey was a bad idea.
"We may need to postpone."
Tobi studied him.
"You’re serious?"
"Unfortunately."
"Who are you, and what have you done with Kade?"
Kade smiled.
Then his expression faded.
"Someone’s offering money for my name. If Kunle carries that envelope around Lagos because we’re impatient, we could put him at risk."
Tobi considered that.
"I’ll call him."
"Ask him to keep it secure. No photographs of the contents until we know how he can share them safely."
Tobi nodded.
He reached for his phone.
Before he could dial, it rang.
Bamidele.
Tobi answered.
"Hello?"
The repairman’s voice was tight.
"Is Kade there?"
"Yes."
"Put me on speaker."
Tobi obeyed.
Kade leaned forward.
"What happened?"
"The man came back."
Kade felt his stomach tighten.
"The one offering money?"
"Yes."
"What did he want?"
"He increased the offer."
Tobi blinked.
"To how much?"
"Two hundred thousand."
Silence.
Kade stared at the phone.
Bamidele continued.
"I refused."
"Did he threaten you?"
"No."
"Then why do you sound worried?"
The repairman took a breath.
"Because he said he no longer needs your name."
Kade went cold.
"What does that mean?"
"He said the person paying him has already identified you."
Tobi slowly lowered his hand.
Kade looked toward the clinic door.
"Did he say who?"
"No."
"Anything else?"
Bamidele hesitated.
"Yes."
The line crackled.
"He said the Houses aren’t interested in arresting you."
Kade frowned.
"Then what do they want?"
Bamidele’s answer came quietly.
"An examination."
Kade remembered the woman in grey.
Her silver Ase thread.
The hunter who’d pursued him through the streets.
The old teacher who’d asked questions about his childhood.
He felt the familiar cold pressure of fear.
But this time, he didn’t reach for the System.
He reached for his notebook.
"Did he say when?"
"No."
"Where?"
"No."
"Did he identify which House?"
"No."
Kade wrote down the answers.
Then looked at Tobi.
They still knew very little.
But one thing had changed.
Someone claiming to represent the Seven Houses had moved from seeking information about him to requesting access to his body.
Kade closed the notebook.
Whatever happened next, he would not walk willingly into an examination he didn’t understand.
And he would not mistake the promise of answers for safety.