The auditorium smelled like expensive leather and desperation.
Marcus Chen clutched his orientation packet—real paper, embossed with gold lettering—and tried not to think about the $180,000 in student loans that had bought him this uncomfortable seat. Around him, two hundred other first-year MBA students radiated the kind of confidence that came from trust funds and legacy admissions.
He didn't belong here.
Silverpoint Business Institute wasn't Harvard or Wharton, but it was close enough to matter. Close enough to change his life. Close enough that he'd gambled everything on two years and a degree that might finally get him out of his parents' garage.
"Stop fidgeting," whispered the woman next to him. She was tall, blonde, and wore a watch that cost more than his car. "You look nervous."
"First day jitters," Marcus said.
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "This isn't high school. There are no participation trophies here." She extended her hand. "Veronica Ashworth. My father runs Ashworth Capital."
Of course he does, Marcus thought, shaking her hand. Her grip was firm. Uncomfortably firm. Almost painful. For a moment, Marcus could have sworn he felt something flow from her palm into his—a warmth that traveled up his arm and settled in his chest before fading.
He pulled back, flexing his fingers. Probably just circulation from her death grip.
"Marcus Chen. My father runs... a dry cleaning business in Sacramento."
Veronica's smile widened. "How quaint."
Before Marcus could respond, the lights dimmed. A hush fell over the auditorium as a figure emerged from the wings.
Dean Elizabeth Cross commanded attention without effort. She was in her fifties, silver hair pulled back severely, wearing a charcoal suit that probably cost more than Marcus's tuition. But it wasn't her appearance that made the room go silent.
It was the presence.
Marcus felt it like a physical weight pressing down on him. The air itself seemed thicker, harder to breathe. His heart hammered in his chest. Around him, students sat up straighter. Some looked excited. Others looked terrified. A few—like Veronica—looked hungry.
What the hell?
"Welcome," Dean Cross said, her voice carrying effortlessly through the space without a microphone, "to Silverpoint Business Institute."
She walked to center stage, each step deliberate and measured. With every footfall, Marcus felt that pressure increase. Sweat beaded on his forehead. This wasn't normal. This couldn't be normal.
"You are here because you believe an MBA will change your life. You are correct, though not in the way you imagine." She paused, her gaze sweeping across the auditorium. Marcus felt her eyes pass over him like a searchlight, and for one terrible moment, he couldn't breathe at all. "Most business schools will teach you frameworks, case studies, networking strategies. We will teach you those things as well. But we will teach you something more important."
The lights behind her shifted, and a projection appeared: a corporate organizational chart that seemed to shimmer and pulse.
"Fifty-three years ago, the world changed. Those of you from certain families already know this. Those of you who don't... you're about to discover why Silverpoint has a ninety-eight percent employment rate and why our alumni command positions of power across every industry."
Marcus leaned forward. Beside him, Veronica's breathing had changed—slower, deeper, more controlled. The other students around him were reacting strangely too. Some had closed their eyes. Others stared at Dean Cross with an intensity that bordered on worship.
"The Eastern nations discovered something ancient. A force that flows through all things. They called it qi, prana, mana—a dozen different names for the same fundamental truth. Energy that can be cultivated, refined, and wielded." Dean Cross smiled. "They thought they had the only path. Meditation. Martial arts. Harmony with nature. Beautiful. Slow. Limited."
She gestured, and Marcus blinked. For just a moment, he could have sworn the air around her hand bent like heat shimmer, and the projection behind her rippled as if reality itself was responding to her movement.
No. That was impossible. He was tired. Stressed. Seeing things.
"What they didn't understand," Dean Cross continued, "is that cultivation is not about meditation alone. It is about structure. Hierarchy. Power flowing through established channels. And no culture in human history has refined organizational hierarchy like the modern corporation."
The warmth in Marcus's chest that he'd felt from Veronica's handshake suddenly flared. He gasped, gripping his armrest. Around him, others were reacting more dramatically. One student was trembling. Another had their head thrown back, mouth open in a silent cry. Veronica's skin seemed to glow faintly in the dim light.
"You are not here merely to earn an MBA," Dean Cross said, and her voice seemed to resonate inside Marcus's skull. "You are here to become something more. Every meeting you attend. Every deal you close. Every negotiation you win. These are not metaphors. They are real. They are power."
She raised her hand, and this time there was no mistaking it. The air twisted and folded around her fingers. The projection behind her exploded into thousands of glowing data points that swirled around her like a galaxy, each one leaving trails of golden light. The pressure in the room became crushing, and Marcus couldn't tell if he was about to pass out or wake up.
"This is a Paradigm Shift," Dean Cross said simply. "One day, if you survive, if you excel, if you climb high enough, you too will reshape reality through sheer force of will. You will make failing companies profitable through your presence alone. You will crush competitors with a glance. You will command resources that transcend mere money."
The display collapsed back into the screen. The pressure eased. Marcus sucked in air like he'd been drowning.
"But that is years away. Today, you begin at the bottom. You begin as interns." She smiled coldly. "Literally. The Intern Realm is your starting point. It has twenty-one stages. Most of you will spend your entire first year mastering the first seven. Some of you will wash out before reaching stage five. A rare few will break through to Associate Realm before graduation."
Marcus's head was spinning. Realms? Stages? What was she talking about?
"Your cultivation begins now," Dean Cross said. "Those of you from cultivation families have already awakened. You've been preparing for this moment. For the rest of you..."
She swept her arm forward, and Marcus felt something slam into him like a tidal wave.
Energy—impossible, undeniable energy—flooded into the auditorium. It poured into him through his chest, his lungs, every breath pulling in more of the invisible force. It felt like drowning in light. Like his body was being torn apart and rebuilt simultaneously. Like every nerve was on fire.
He wanted to scream but couldn't make a sound.
[System Initialization...]
The words appeared in his vision, floating in translucent blue text that shouldn't exist.
[Welcome, Marcus Chen, to the Corporate Cultivation System]
[Analyzing candidate...]
Marcus stared at the impossible words hovering in front of his eyes. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. He was hallucinating. Stress-induced psychosis. That had to be it.
[Business Acumen: Low]
[Leadership Potential: Average]
[Networking: Below Average]
[Ruthlessness: Low]
[Determination: High]
[Hidden Potential: ???]
His stats appeared like a video game character sheet. Low. Below Average. The words burned. This was a nightmare. He was going to wake up any second.
[Initializing Starting Realm...]
[Congratulations! You have entered the Intern Realm - Stage 1: Network Sensing]
[You can now perceive corporate qi and detect other cultivators]
[Technique Library: Locked - Complete Orientation to unlock Basic Network Formation manual]
[Quest Available: Survive Orientation Week]
Around him, other students were having similar experiences—or were they? Some looked shocked like him. But others, like Veronica, looked pleased. Satisfied. Like they'd been expecting this.
"Your student packet contains your dormitory assignments, your class schedules, and most importantly, your first cultivation resources," Dean Cross said, and her voice sounded distant through the ringing in Marcus's ears. "Those of you starting at Stage 1 will receive the Basic Network Formation manual. Those already awakened will find resources appropriate to your level."
Marcus flipped open his packet with trembling hands. Everything looked normal—class schedules, campus map, student ID. Then he found it. A slim book with a corporate logo embossed on the cover: "Basic Network Formation: A Foundation Course in Corporate Qi Circulation."
"One final thing," Dean Cross added, her tone casual but her words sharp. "Corporate cultivation is competitive by nature. You will be ranked against your peers. Your advancement depends not just on your individual progress, but on your performance relative to others. Resources are limited. Opportunities are scarce. Make allies. Make enemies. Make deals. But make progress, or make your exit."
She smiled, and Marcus felt that pressure descend one more time, just for a moment.
"Welcome to Silverpoint. Orientation sessions continue throughout the week. Classes begin Monday. Those of you starting at Stage 1 have seventy-two hours to achieve your first breakthrough to Stage 2." Her smile vanished. "Fail to reach Stage 2 by Monday morning, and you will be expelled. We do not waste resources on those who cannot keep pace. This is a business school, not a charity."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
"I suggest you begin immediately."
The lights came up.
For a moment, there was silence. Then the auditorium erupted.
Students talking excitedly, comparing their system notifications, already forming groups. Marcus sat frozen, staring at his cultivation manual. His hands were shaking. The words on the page seemed to swim before his eyes.
This was real. Somehow, impossibly, this was real.
"Stage 1," Veronica observed, glancing at him. "I'm Stage 4. Started cultivating in my junior year at Yale. My father arranged for a family friend to teach me the basics." She stood, smoothing her skirt. "Seventy-two hours to Stage 2 or expulsion. That's brutal even by Silverpoint standards."
"What... what is this?" Marcus managed to say.
Veronica paused, tilting her head. "You really didn't know? Your family didn't tell you?" She laughed, but there was genuine surprise in it. "God, you're one of the completely blind ones. How did you even get accepted to Silverpoint?"
"I had good test scores," Marcus said, his brain finally starting to process. "Strong undergraduate GPA. Good recommendations—"
"Those matter, but they're not everything," Veronica said. "Silverpoint accepts two types of students: those from cultivation families, and those with exceptional potential for awakening. They must have seen something in you." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Actually, your determination stat is unusually high. Most Stage 1 blind candidates have determination in the average range. High determination with low ruthlessness is... interesting."
"Interesting good or interesting bad?"
"Interesting as in I have no idea which way you'll go." She smiled, and this time it seemed almost genuine. "You could burn out trying too hard, or you could surprise everyone. Either way—" she shrugged, "—you'll be entertaining to watch."
She walked away, already joining a cluster of well-dressed students who welcomed her like she belonged. Marcus could see it now, with his newly awakened senses. They all had that shimmer. That aura. They were all already cultivators.
And he was just... awake. Barely.
Marcus looked down at his manual again. The chapter titles made no sense: "Establishing Your Network Foundation," "Qi Flow Through Professional Relationships," "Converting Social Capital to Spiritual Energy."
[Quest Update: Survive Orientation Week]
[Objective 1: Master Basic Network Formation technique before Monday (Stage 1→Stage 2)]
[Reward: Continue enrollment at Silverpoint Business Institute]
[Failure: EXPULSION]
[Time Remaining: 71 hours, 43 minutes]
Marcus stared at the glowing red word. EXPULSION. Not "try again next semester." Not "remedial courses." Just... out.
His phone buzzed. A text from his mother: "How's the first day? Are you making friends? Remember, this is your chance to make something of yourself. Don't waste it like your cousin did. Love you!"
Marcus let out a breath. Okay. Okay. He could do this. He'd crammed for finals before. He'd pulled all-nighters. He'd learned organic chemistry in two weeks when he'd switched majors sophomore year. This was just... magic business school instead of regular business school.
How hard could it be?
(Very hard, probably. But panicking wouldn't help.)
Marcus grabbed his packet and headed for the exit. His legs felt steadier than they had a few minutes ago. Fear was useful—it focused the mind. And right now, he needed focus more than anything.
The other students flowed around him, already forming groups and alliances. He caught fragments of conversation—and now, with Network Sensing active, he could feel the power differential in every interaction:
"—my father's firm uses the Leverage Multiplication technique—" (Stage 6, strong aura)
"—already at Stage 5, this is going to be easy—" (Stage 5, confident aura)
"—seventy-two hours should be plenty of time—" (Stage 3, moderate aura)
Easy for them to say. But then again, they'd probably said the same thing about organic chemistry, and Marcus had managed that.
He pushed through the doors into the California sunshine. Silverpoint's campus was beautiful—all modern architecture and manicured lawns. In the distance, the San Francisco financial district gleamed, and with his new senses, he could feel something emanating from those towers. Power. Real, tangible power.
That's what this was all about. Not just a degree, but actual power.
Marcus had always been pragmatic. He'd chosen business school because it was practical, because it led to jobs, because it was a path forward. He'd never expected magic to be part of the equation, but fine. Magic it was. He'd adapt. That's what determination meant, wasn't it?
A group of students walked past, and Marcus's Network Sensing pinged. One of them—an Asian guy with expensive glasses—was Stage 5. He glanced at Marcus, and his expression shifted.
"Stage 1," the guy said to his friends, not bothering to lower his voice. "Blind candidate. Give him a day before he washes out."
"Generous," one of his friends replied. "I give him until tomorrow night."
Marcus kept walking. Let them underestimate him. Wouldn't be the first time.
He looked down at his cultivation manual. "Basic Network Formation: A Foundation Course in Corporate Qi Circulation." The cover was surprisingly normal-looking for a magical textbook. Professional. Clean. Like any other business book.
Seventy-two hours. Stage 2 or expulsion.
He'd faced worse odds. Probably. The difference was, this time the reward wasn't just a good grade—it was supernatural power and a future he'd never imagined possible.
Marcus headed toward the library, his grip tightening on the manual.
Time to get to work.