Melmarc sat in a waiting room, legs bouncing in nervousness.

He was not alone. Beside him was Ark, looking calm and casual, always able to be calm in nervous situations.

There a few more people in the room. A girl with black hair and purple highlights wearing ripped jeans and what looked like an old leather jacket. Another with glasses and dressed like the kind of girl that always took first place in class. There were four boys, each one of varying dispositions ranging from good and well-behaved to delinquent and most likely to join a gang.

Ark placed a hand on his knees to stop the jerking. “We’ll be fine, Mel. We’ve got this.”

Melmarc looked at his brother and nodded.

They were here to register their Classes with the government. For the first time Melmarc thought the government’s idea of immediately assigning a newly registered Gifted that wanted to be a Delver to a mentor was unreasonable.

What if they just wanted to spend some time to themselves? What if they just wanted to wait it out, figure out what they really wanted to do with their lives? Like people who took a gap year before going to college.

But he understood the logic behind the government’s planning. This played right into the government’s natural scheme of things.

They needed to account for all their citizens at all times. Their care and protection, when looked at from a different angle could also be seen as control and obsession.

They wanted to account for every possible threat, and their control over people who could break through walls with just the right amount of physical force was certainly going to be firmer than that of other people.

Still…

He turned to Ark and asked in a whisper, “Aren’t you worried about your class?”

“Not really.” Ark shrugged. “Uncle Dorthna said that there are special circumstances like mine, and there are protocols in place to handle them. If they think my class is really some kind of risk—which he doesn’t think they will—I’ll likely be assigned to an S-class or a really powerful A-class mentor.”

Melmarc wasn’t entirely convinced.

“And it’s the government, Mel,” Ark added. “They won’t discriminate just because someone sees my class. They’ll follow the chain of command and no priest will come in spraying holy water and swinging a cincture.”

That was true, but Ark’s words had reminded him about another thing that had been on his mind for the past three days.

Uncle Dorthna.

He’d thought about it extensively for three good days and it still didn’t make sense. What did a grey and red indicator really mean?

He’d heard about how skills are subject to the Gifted’s interpretation, but he didn’t think that was the case here. If it was, green would’ve been one of the colors.

Did that mean that the skill was broken?

It wasn’t like he’d used it enough times to know for sure. Maybe there could be a completely different meaning to a two-colored indicator.

I couldn’t see his name or class, either, he thought.

Maybe that was something of the case. Maybe the skill couldn’t get a read on uncle Dorthna. It could explain multiple colors.

But why grey and red not green and grey or green and red. Melmarc frowned. Or anything with green at all.

Ark nudged his leg. “What’s on your mind?”

“If red is a threat and grey is neutral, what do you think a grey red or a red grey is?”

Ark looked up in thought. “That’s a tough one. A neutral threat?”

“Like he’s a threat but he’s not interested in you?”

Ark nodded. “Maybe. Like he’s a threat in general but he’ll leave you alone as long as you leave him alone.”

That makes some level of sense.

Melmarc could envision their uncle being a threat, just not to them. Everything about him was shrouded in secrecy after all. They’d never heard a whisper about anything family related. No one knew what his class was or what skills he had.

He was a close friend of the family but no one knew where he lived. They never even visited.

He also never spends more than a day at home when mom and dad are around.

Now that he thought about it, that was odd. It had been like that all their lives so Melmarc hadn’t really thought about it. No one had.

But now, the grey and red indicator was having him question too many things.

“Has uncle Dorthna ever had a girlfriend?” he asked Ark.

“Maybe.” Ark didn’t seem too interested. He was too busy staring at the door to the room they were meant to enter. “If he ever did, no one’s ever found out.”

“So she’s a secret?”

“Personally, I think he doesn’t.” Ark adjusted so that he faced Melmarc, suddenly interested. “Have you noticed that his phone only rings when one of us is calling him?”

Melmarc had noticed it. But he didn’t really think too much of it. His own phone only rang when a family member was calling, or Delano and Eroms. He didn’t think it was that big of a deal.

“Maybe he doesn’t have friends?”

“Or family?” Ark asked, not convinced. “I don’t know. It’s kind of sus, if you ask me. But it’s not something new. You remember when we were kids and we used to think he was an intruder?”

“Yea.”

They both laughed quietly. But Melmarc was beginning to wonder again.

Would his skill be able to tell if he was in the presence of an intruder? Would they have their own special indicator?

And why not green?

Green was for allies. And Dorthna felt like an ally. He’d taken care of them their entire lives. He’d driven all the way across town that one time Ninra had gone on a date and her date had abandoned her at the restaurant.

She’d had cash but she’d been too heartbroken to do much of anything but call him.

He’d been present in important ways in their lives.

So why wasn’t there any green?

What if the color assignment wasn’t based on the people’s intent towards him but his intent towards them?

Vlad had been green in the mansion and he’d known that Vlad was their host. Joshua had been red, which made sense if he was suspicious of him. And Joshua had seemed suspicious at the time.

I didn’t know Tepes and Anais so that could be why they were grey.

Maybe his mind was interpreting uncle Dorthna as grey because he somehow thought he was neutral since he shared next to nothing about himself. And red was probably just because of an innate fear of the unknown?

He knew he was grasping at straws even before the thoughts were complete.

The door Ark had been staring at most of their time here opened and a woman stepped out. It wasn’t the first time the door was opening, and it wasn’t the first time they were seeing her.

She wore a simple business suit with pants instead of a skirt. It was a deep navy blue, and the shirt she wore inside was white.

Her blue eyes looked down at a tab in her hands.

“Ark Lockwood?”

Ark raised his hand, then got up.

He gave Melmarc a thumbs up as he headed for the door. “Wish me luck.”

Normally, Melmarc wouldn’t think a person needed luck. But considering Ark was going to be assigned a mentor almost immediately, maybe people did need luck for these things.

Ark paused when he got to the woman, taking a quick peek at her tab.

He nodded towards Melmarc. “He’s next on the least. Is it alright if we go in together? He’s my younger brother, and he tends to worry a lot.”

The woman looked between them and her face softened. Melmarc could see her considering it.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally. She looked like she meant it. “I would allow if I could, but there are procedures in place for these things.”

Ark was civilized about it as he stepped into the office, leaving Melmarc with the rest of the people in the waiting room.

Melmarc’s thoughts on their uncle switched to worries for Ark now that he was alone.

Yes, the government was not an individual but a body made up of diverse individuals with processes put in place to assist with scenarios concerning that diversity. But it was difficult to believe that anyone apart from a demon worshipper would see Demon Lord and think positively.

Maybe agnostics, too?

Regardless, the government body was still made up of individuals. For instance, if the woman who looked kind and considerate were to see Demon-Lord on her screen after testing Ark, what would she do?

She might think it was right to find a way to send him of to somewhere dangerous with a dangerous Delver.

There were Delvers who had high assistant fatality rates. Normal Gifted, too. Mostly those who worked in the police force. A partner died here or there because one criminal or the other held too much of a grudge, or they just led them into too deadly a situation.

He knew the posting was meant to be completely automated, just for a true randomizing effect. It was the reason the posting was done immediately. But someone could find a way.

Someone could…

Are you listening to yourself right now?

Melmarc paused. Maybe Ark was right. Maybe he did worry too much when it came to Ark.

There was a quiet movement to his side. One of the others waiting had gotten up from her chair. It was the girl with purple highlights.

Three of the four boys watched with interest as she cut through the distance to sit next to Melmarc. The fourth boy who hadn’t looked seemed more interested in something on his phone.

Up close, Melmarc could understand why the boys had looked. The girl was pretty, but in that way that told you she’d stab you in your sleep in you breathed wrong.

“Hi.”

Even her voice was pretty with the same violent undertone. Give her a gum to chew and she’d meet all the requirements of a cliché novel bad girl character.

Melmarc nodded. “Hi.”

The girl looked from side to side. “Got any weed on you?”

Melmarc paused. He couldn’t say he’d seen that coming. Normally, his response would be a polite no, but he had too much on his mind to control his words.

“Do I look like someone that carries things like that around?”

He hoped his voice was at least polite. He wasn’t mad at being asked or anything, just confused.

The girl shrugged. “Kinda.”

That didn’t make sense. He didn’t dress like a nerd or a geek, but he also certainly didn’t dress like a delinquent or a drug dealer.

If he was to describe his dress code, he’d say it was mundane. Plain.

The girl must've seen his confusion because she added: “You look like the kind of brother that would carry your brother’s weed for him since no one would ever suspect you.”

Oh.

That made sense. Ark didn’t look like a bad kid, but he did look like he didn’t mind getting in trouble every now and then, which was true. It just wasn’t that kind of trouble.

“Sorry,” Melmarc told her. “But no weed.”

The girl clicked her tongue. “Damn. Would’ve loved a hit right about now.”

Before the registration? That’s crazy.

Drugs didn’t play any part in the outcome of the registration. Whatever the government used for their testing, nothing was known to be able to fool it. And people had tried.

His surprise was in the fact that they were in a government building, and the people that worked here were in the age grade that still looked at people who did drugs in a bad light.

Personally, Melmarc didn’t mind people who smoked and did one drug or the other. His worry was in those who’d made it an addiction and let it control most of their lives.

“That’s an odd look from an innocent guy.”

Melmarc turned to her at her words. “What?”

“I asked goody two shoes over there if he had any weed.” She nodded in the direction of one of the boys with glasses. “Guess what happened?”

“You didn’t get any weed?”

She paused. “That, too. But I meant something else. He looked at me like I was an affront to God.”

Most people who don’t do drugs would.

“But you.” She smiled, and it was beautiful to look at, even if mischievous. “You just looked at me like I was some guy that walked up to you and asked for directions.”

Melmarc said nothing. He didn’t think there was anything to say.

“You weren’t judgey,” she explained. Then she leaned back and folded her arms over her chest, staring at the door Ark had walked into. “Maybe your brother does smoke.”

Melmarc opened his mouth to tell her that Ark didn’t smoke but changed his mind. It was really none of her business.

So, instead, he stared at the door and tried not to worry too much.

He failed.

After five minutes of waiting, his foot was beginning to tap again. He didn’t want to worry but couldn’t help it.

The last person was in there for ten minutes before they called for him, he assured himself. Ark’s fine.

Beside him the girl held out her hand.

He looked down at it, slightly confused. He reached across slowly and shook it.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

She gave him that same smile she’d given him earlier, but this one had none of the mischief.

“Hi, I’m Patience, and I don’t smoke.”

Melmarc was confused. “Hi… I’m Marc… And I don’t have any drugs?”

She was still smiling. “Hi, Marc. Cool name.”

He wanted to tell her that her name was cool, too. But he didn’t feel very good about lying right now. He actually thought her name was quite plain. And he didn’t want to be rude by telling her.

Since she didn’t ask for his opinion on her name, he said, “Thanks.”

She stared at him as he let go of her hand.

“Just thanks?” she chuckled. “You’re not going to tell me my name’s cool?”

Melmarc opened his mouth to say something he didn’t yet know, but her laughter brought him to silence.

“Don’t mind me. I know my name’s plain.” She snorted. “Trust my parents to give me some generic name. Joy, Peace, Happiness. At least she didn’t give me something like Longevity.”

Melmarc could agree with that one. He couldn’t really picture living a life with Longevity as his name.

Then again, Melmarc wasn’t the coolest name. That’s why he always gave Marc. Sometimes he felt guilty about giving it. But people called him Marc, and it was short for Melmarc, so it wasn’t like it was false.

Right?

“So why are you so worried about your brother, Marc?” she asked.

“Because he’s my brother.”

“True, but it’s just a registration. People don’t get worried about registrations.”

“They do when the other person could be posted anywhere.”

“You could be posted anywhere. Why not worry about yourself? Besides, anywhere you end up getting posted, the government covers your transport and housing. Also, they don’t post you anywhere ludicrous. They like to take good care of their Gifted and all that. Especially the A’s and S’s.”

“What about the B’s?”

“Your brother’s a B?” Patience tapped a finger against her elbow. “Well, they don’t really care much for B’s. B’s are neither here nor there for them. Where they focus when it comes to B’s are on their growth potential. You won’t be placed in the best place, but you’ll get something good. I heard there was a B with and S growth potential last year. They sent her to Tatelat.”

That got Melmarc’s attention.

Tatelat was the country’s Gifted capital. It was a town that had cut itself out from the rest of the country. Everything about it was high-end, and only the best of the best Delvers lived there.

It was also a bit discriminatory.

For instance, the only non-Gifted that live there were children of the Gifted that lived there. Also, money and being Gifted was not enough to get you in, you needed some level of combat history.

The two S-ranks the country had lived there, along with a lot of A-ranks and B-ranks. C-ranks were rare, and D-ranks were almost non-existent.

Tatelat also had a prestige for owning the best Delver school in the country. Every country has their Gifted capital. And Tatelat was America’s

Getting a mentor in Tatelat would be a boon to any aspiring Delver’s career.

“Wait, how do you know all this?” Melmarc asked.

Patience shrugged. “I’m actually in a community that shares these kinds of information.”

Melmarc was unwilling to accept that. Delano was in a community as well but didn’t have access to this level of information.

“Also, my mom works for the head of the Delver’s department in the country.”

That was more believable.

Melmarc studied her outfit and composure. She fit the stereotype of rebellious government child, with the clothes and the highlights. Government child wasn't the right description. She looked like she was the rebellious child of powerful parents.

Patience ran a finger through one of her highlights. “This? It’s from my rebellious phase. I was a foolish thirteen-year-old. I liked it so I kept it.”

“But you didn’t smoke.”

“Or drink. Stuff kills the body. I was rebellious not suicidal.”

Melmarc smiled at that. “So what rebellious thing did you do?”

“Hmmm.” Patience looked up in thought. “Stayed out past my curfew. Got a boyfriend six years older than me. Broke into vehicles.”

“You dated a nineteen-year-old?” Melmarc had no idea why that surprised him.

Patience laughed. “I said I broke into vehicles and you’re more worried about my boyfriend.”

“It’s not like you stole the cars, right?”

She had that mischievous grin again. “What makes you think that?”

“You said you broke into cars, not that you stole cars.” Melmarc relaxed against his chair and wasn’t looking at the registration room for the first time. “I figured you’d have said you stole cars if you did.”

Patience’s smile turned thoughtful.

“You’re an interesting boy, Marc,” she said. “And you don’t have to worry about my ex. He didn’t take advantage of me or anything. He was actually just my boyfriend in name. We didn’t do any of the relationship perks.”

Melmarc wasn’t sure what response was safe to give, so he just nodded.

“I also broke into people’s homes with a few of my friends,” she added, then sighed. “Those were good times.”

“Sounds like you had fun.”

“I did. Then I grew up. What about you? Any catchy childhood stories?”

“I fell off a tree once.” Melmarc turned to look at her. “Does that count?”

“Only if you broke something important, and the tree wasn’t in your backyard.”

Melmarc smiled and looked up at the roof. It was a solid white. Clean.

“We don’t have a tree at my place, just a garden in the backyard. The tree was at my friend’s place.”

“Story’s almost interesting. And what did you break?”

“Dislocated my left knee, but didn’t break anything.”

“Is that what ended your high-school basketball career?” Patience joked. “Did you also tear your ACL? Are you secretly a star athlete?”

Melmarc laughed. “I’m not that tall. I’m not even tall.”

“Dude,” Patience snorted. “You’re the tallest guy in this place. What are you, like, six, two?”

Melmarc tried to gauge her height from where she was seated and failed.

“I’m five eleven. Six if you want a round figure.”

She eyeballed him, then shook her head. “My boyfriend is six, round figure. Trust me. You’re not.”

That was odd. He was sixteen, he might still be growing but he honestly didn't think he still was.

Melmarc looked at her. “So what am I? Taller or shorter?”

“No, don’t do that,” Patience laughed, gesturing sassily at his face. “Don’t go giving half-smiles and wry grins. It messes up the whole good boy persona you have going on.”

Melmarc’s smile only widened. He’d never been accused of having a good boy persona before. Or having a half-smile or a wry grin.

Who even uses half-smiles and wry grins? He thought.

“What’s with the face?”

“Half-smiles and wry grin,” Melmarc said. “Most people just say grin or cocky smile.”

Patience looked at the ceiling with a sly grin of her own. “What can I say? I’m a sophisticated girl.”

Melmarc laughed. “With purple highlights and ripped jeans?”

Patience shrugged. “Sophisticated and diverse. I’m like a jack in a box. You have no idea what’s coming out next.”

On his chair, the boy who looked like a delinquent was frowning at them. Melmarc had a feeling he wished he was the one in the chair.

But Melmarc wasn’t looking at him. He was looking above his head. There was a number there.

188km.

Three days now, and the portal wasn’t closed. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, but unlike all of the notifications he got, this one never disappeared. He closed his eyes.

188km.

It was still there, clear as day even with his eyes closed. For the last three days, it had been insistent on staying. As if it was reminding him that he wasn’t doing what he was meant to do.

When he opened his eyes, Patience was staring at him.

“Worried about Donny over there?”

“Nope.”

He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but Ark had made him develop a different kind of wariness for bullies. Growing up, he’d learned to avoid them for their own good.

“Trust me, Donny’s the least of my worries."

“Ooh, macho.”

Melmarc cocked a brow at her and she laughed.

“Alright tall and handsome, what kind of things are at the top of your worries? What had you making a face?”

“The active portal,” he answered easily.

True to uncle Dorthna’s words, the government had located the portal before they’d gotten home that night. It was in some secluded forest, a good way away from civilization, as most portals tend to be.

One of the Delving companies had gotten the rights to the portal and had all but entered immediately. It had been categorized as a B-rank portal.

“Oh, that.” Patience brought out her phone and typed in a few things. “I heard it might be closed in a few days now.”

“I heard the rescue team is still on standby.” Melmarc was trying not to look at what she was typing. “They usually go in after four days if the strength of the portal doesn’t reduce, right?”

“It’s a B-rank portal. They usually do that for C-rank portals. B’s get a one-week delay. A’s get nothing. If A-rank Delvers can’t close it in a week, there’s no point sending people after them unless they’re A-rankers as well.”

She turned her phone and showed him her screen.

It was a footage of a group of people standing outside a portal, waiting.

“My brother sent me this footage yesterday.”

Melmarc held out his hand to take her phone. “May I?”

“Sure.” She handed it over.

He took it and looked at the video. It was a steady video. Whoever was behind the camera didn’t turn it or pan for any other views. They also didn’t zoom in, so there wasn’t any detail of the Delvers waiting or what kinds of gear they had on.

“Is your brother a camera man or a Delver?”

“Delver,” she answered. “A-rank. My folks thought I’ll be an A-rank like him. Their attempt to hide their disappointment when I ended up being a B-rank was hilarious.”

Melmarc didn’t see why they would be disappointed. “B’s a good rank, though.”

Patience snorted in amusement. “Not when your dad’s an S, your mom’s an A, and your brother’s an A.”

Melmarc paused.

There were only two S-ranks in the country and only one was married to an A-rank.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at hiding your facial expressions?” she asked, amused. “Never play poker. You’ll lose.”

“Your mom’s—” Melmarc cut himself short and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Your mom’s Dragon-Knight?”

Patience smiled proudly. “And my dad’s a powerful S-rank. Funny how everyone’s always more focused on my mom. It’s always about the dragon.”

A year ago, he would’ve had questions about Dragon-Knight and her dragon. Now, he wasn’t as amused. He was still amused, though.

Spitfire’s taking all the fantasy out of the fantastic.

Melmarc took the information and filed it away.

“It’s cool, your dad’s also a powerful S-rank,” he said. “What’s it like having popular and powerful parents?”

“It’s alright.” She shrugged. “People find out and start to murmur, and then you aren’t very sure if your friends are your friends or are just trying to get with you because of your parents. So I’m usually all hush hush about it. It’s even better since our parents kept us out of the media.”

“But you told me.”

“Yeah, I did.” She held her hand out for her phone and he gave her. “Honestly, I was just curious to see if you’d believe me, and how you’d react to it. You can tell a lot about a person from their reaction to things like that.”

“And what did you get from my reaction?”

“That you either don’t care that my family has a pet dragon, or you really don’t want to come near my family and our pet dragon.”

The latter was probably the more correct answer.

The door to the registration room opened, and the lady in a suit stepped out. It brought their conversation to a stop.

“Melmarc Lockwood,” she said.

She didn’t call out the name like she had always been doing. She simply looked at Melmarc and said it.

“Your turn, wry grin,” Patience said beside him.

Melmarc nodded.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” he said, getting up.

“It’s no problem. The foot tapping was giving me a migraine from all the way over there. Think of it as community service for my rebellious phase.”

Melmarc laughed as he walked past the lady for the registration. He consciously checked their height difference as he passed her, suddenly conscious of his own.

When he was inside, she closed the door behind them.

“Don’t worry about your brother,” she said, as she led him deeper into the room. “His class is a bit odd, but we’ve seen worse.”

“Really?”

That was surprising. Melmarc hadn’t heard of any class more ominous than Demon Lord.

“Really,” the lady replied. “Just last month I had a kid come in with a skill called [God Is Dead]. Terrifying thing.”

They were walking down a dark hallway now, lit only by blue lights. Melmarc had thought the door just led to an office where they took the exam.

“What did the skill do?”

The lady made a face. “Just projected a large mana-version of himself around him. He had the Titan class so it was nothing too impressive.”

Melmarc wondered at the name of the skill. From what he knew about skills, there was more to it than just a mana projection. Either the Gifted had kept it out of his registration, which was unlikely, or the lady wasn’t telling him everything.

“Anyway,” the lady continued, “your brother’s on the next step of the registration so he’s doing alright.”

The distance from the still active portal hovered over her head and Melmarc tried not to stare at it.

She led him into a new room. This one was bright with white lights.

It was a wide room with an office desk on his left. At the center of the room, just against the wall was a tall black glass. It looked like a massive phone screen.

The lady walked up to the desk but didn’t sit down.

“Where are my manners,” she said as she brought a notepad out from a drawer. “I know your name but you don’t know mine. It must be uncomfortable.”

It really wasn’t. Melmarc didn’t mind not knowing her name.

“My name’s Sharon.” She didn’t offer a last name. “I’m a B-rank Empath, and I’ll be in charge of your registration. We’ll start simple. What’s your class?”

Melmarc turned his attention from the black glass and looked at her. A B-rank Empath. It was an impressive class, and a fitting one for her job role.

People said Empath’s had a general instinct towards detecting lies. So it was probably not a good idea to lie to her.

“Faker,” he answered.

Sharon paused, then scribbled something on the note pad.

“That’s a tough class to make friends with,” she said, not looking up. “But I’m sure you’ll be fine. And what’s your rank?”

“B.”

“Do you have a growth potential yet or are you a recently Classed?”

“I have a growth potential.”

“And it’s?”

“Unranked.”

Sharon paused and looked up at him. “Unranked?”

Melmarc nodded.

She made a face he couldn’t decipher, then gestured at the glass.

“Place your hand on the glass please. Palm flat. Your details will be displayed once you’ve done that.”

Melmarc obeyed. He stepped up to the glass and placed his hand against it as instructed. It was cold to the touch, and surprisingly soft. Like jelly.

He felt a mild tingle, then the surface of the glass wobbled like water. Instead of appearing in front of him, his notification appeared beside him.

Sharon dropped her notepad and walked around the desk.

“Couldn’t I have just shown it to you?” he asked her when he noticed she was actually looking at his notification.

It felt a bit like an invasion of his privacy when she looked at it like that. He wasn’t sure why, considering it was going to be displayed anyway.

He’d just expected it to appear on the glass in front of him, not somewhere beside him for her to look at like it was hers.

“Wow, you were right.” She looked up at him, impressed. “An unranked growth potential. That’s a first for me.”

Melmarc couldn’t help but be proud of himself.

“A lot of people have a thing against the Faker class,” she continued. “But I think it’s an interesting class. It’s probably the most versatile class after Mage. Personally, I think it’s the most diverse. Because you could be an Intelligence type one day, and the next thing you know, you’re an Agility type. My advice, read about as many skills as you can so you know all of them.”

Melmarc nodded in thanks. He wondered why she hadn’t asked about the skill next to his class. Or his status effect. They were always there.

He looked down at it.

“Keep your hand on the glass,” Sharon said calmly. “Once you let go, this disappears.”

Melmarc kept his hand on the glass as he saw why Sharon hadn’t asked.

[Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]

[Class: Faker]

[Rank: B]

[Growth Potential: Unranked]

Just out of curiosity, he tried to pull up his own interface and it worked.

[Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]

[Class: Faker – Gossip (Mastery 10.19%)]

[Rank: B]

[Growth Potential: Unranked]

Status: August Guest +0.5 to all stats, Intruder -0.5 to all stats.

In a bid to see what normal human skills would feel like, he’d gotten the gossip buff from Ninra a day ago.

It had been at almost forty percent when he’d gotten it, but had dwindled down to where it currently was. Its effect had been simple. He’d been caught with an overwhelming interest in other people’s lives and had really, really wanted to talk about who was dating who in school.

He’d spent most of the day worried about it. It wasn’t like it was something he couldn’t control. It was just worrying how influential it was over him. But as long as he kept his mouth shut and didn’t talk about a topic he knew a lot about, he was fine.

Another thing he learnt was that it’s mastery went down far slower than that of Gifted skills. By now, any Gifted skill would’ve been in the negative.

“Alright,” Sharon announced, turning away from him and picking up a tablet from her desk. “You can remove your hand from the glass.”

Melmarc removed it and flexed his hand. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

“If you’re wondering about the glass,” she said, still typing away, “it was made many years ago by a Crafter who had the Smith of the World skill.”

Melmarc hadn’t heard of that skill. But it wasn’t like he knew all the world skills, only the ones officially known.

Sharon pointed at another door in the side of the room, still not looking up from her tab. “Take that door, then make a left, you’ll find yourself at the next test. Your brother’s probably done with his so you might not see him. Have a nice day, Mr. Lockwood.”

Melmarc hesitated. He wanted to ask if she knew the name of the Crafter so he could give Delano something to keep him occupied for a few days while he was gone.

In the end, he decided not to.

He walked towards the next door, thinking only a class and a skill would be enough to pique Delano’s interest. Any more and it would be too easy for his friend.

“Hold up. I almost forgot your note.”

Melmarc paused at the door and turned to find Sharon hurrying over to him with brisk steps. She held a black envelope in her hand.

Everything looked more important in black, classier even. Black paper, black credit card, black cars, black clothes.

But there was just something ominous about a black envelope.

What he thought must’ve shown on his face because Sharon chuckled. She had a nice chuckle.

“Don’t let it get to you.” She held up the envelope and waved it around like it was not important. “This is just for your posting. I almost forgot to give it to you.”

She held it out to him, and he took it from her grip.

“Now, remember. You’re not allowed to open it until you’ve stepped out of the room. No idea why, but I don’t make the rules, I just follow it. There's also a bit of an ID card in there. It's a new addition, ever since we started getting people with Unranked growth potentials in different registration centers.”

Melmarc nodded, then tucked the envelope in his back pocket. It was wide enough not to crumple the envelope. He hadn't known people were walking around with Unranked growth potentials. He would have to give Delano this new piece of information.

Sharon looked at him with a mild touch of surprise. “You’re not like your brother, huh?”

Melmarc gave a small smile. “I’m his milder version.”

“Yes, you are.” Sharon was already walking back to her table. “I almost had to tackle him to stop him from opening his envelope in the room. It’s been a while since I last saw someone so eager to see their posting.”

She stopped at her table, started arranging the contents on top of it.

Melmarc wasn’t sure if he was supposed to wait or leave.

She paused midway through moving a cup of pens from the center to the extreme left, and looked up at him. “In case you’re having any kind of anxiety over where you’re going, you don’t have to. Your mentor is one of the best in the country when it comes to her rating.”

We get to rate our mentors?

“And she’s nice.” Sharon changed her mind and placed the cup of pens on the opposite end. “You’ll like her.”

Melmarc really hoped he would. From what he knew, he would be spending at least three months working with or for her.

When he stepped out of the room, he was welcomed with the booming sound of a loud crash.

It sounded like an explosion, and it was coming from his left.

Isn’t that where she said I should go?

He stared down the hallway to his left and thought he’d heard someone swear. But that held little interest to him.

Sharon had said his mentor was a woman, and that she was one of the best. Honestly, as deductive as he could get, the information held nothing he could use to deduce.

There were as many females Gifted as there were males. And it wasn’t like there was a government ranking for best mentors in the mentorship program to even start guessing from.

So he put his hand in his back pocket and brought out the envelope.

Its black exterior was no less ominous than when Sharon had held it out to him.

Well, here goes nothing.

He broke the also black seal, and opened the envelope. The information was written on black paper with white ink.

All it had was a title, a name, and a location.

Detective Firdausi Alfa. 38, Nuleuvard park, Brooklyn Police Department.

So I’m going to Brooklyn.

Brooklyn wasn’t too far from home. But that didn’t hold his attention. He’d been posted to a police department. He would work for the police for the space of three weeks.

He didn’t know how to react to that. Delano was definitely going to have jokes to crack when he found out.

Alfa.

The name sounded very familiar. He’d heard it somewhere before. It was supposed to be important.

When he pulled out the I.D, he froze. It was green. It had his name on it as well as his basic information. Age. Height. Weight. His attention zeroed in on a wrong piece of information.

It says I'm six feet and one inch, he thought. I'm five eleven.

Maybe it had the wrong calculations because he was wearing a shoe. Though he doubted his shoes had two-inch soles. Still, it looked like the glass construct had done more than just reveal his skills. Also, he'd only seen one other person with such an I.D.

Does that mean Eroms also has an unranked growth potential?

That was wild.

What else don't we know about him? And if he's registered, then why wasn't he assigned a mentor?

Melmarc thought about it and couldn't reach a conclusion. If Eroms had disappeared for three weeks for a secret mentorship program, he would've noticed. Did he get special treatment for being an S-rank?

Melmarc shelved the thought for another time. He tucked the letter and I.D back into the envelope, then tucked the envelope back into his pocket. He was headed down the hallway when the origin of the name 'Alfa' came to him.

Isn’t that The Blight’s last name?