"Come on, sleepyhead. Places to go. Ambushes to defeat."

Latham's eyes snapped open and took in a somewhat more confident Lowe than before his snooze. "You're looking spunky."

"I took some advice."

"Did you indeed, little man? And how did it work out for you?" Latham asked, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity and more than a touch of amusement.

Lowe paused, not sure how to answer. His Mana Pool was pretty much at the level it had been before he had lost his Class, which was an extraordinary feeling after so long. But there was something different about Rank 2 Intelligence. It had made his Mana . . . richer, somehow. He found himself wishing he'd spent a bit longer studying that Essence Transmutation Theory scroll. Mindful of conserving his available resources, he hadn't committed it to Grid View, which he realised - with a smile - was not something he'd need to worry about so much moving forward.

"It's fair to say I'm glad to have a chance to test the theory."

Especially so, since he'd been able to offload all his looted coin on the to bring his thre Skills back up to Rare. This had been a very profitable Dungeon for him. So much so that he was already wondering what it would take to convince Latham to boost him through a couple more.

When the case was resolved, of course.

"Don't even consider it," the said, his tone firm. "This is a one-time favour to get you to Level 25. I don't make a habit of Powerlevelling the Unclassed. There are names for those who make a living from this sort of thing, and I have a reputation to uphold."

Despite the momentary pang of disappointment, Lowe could understand that. What had been done for him was already far ahead of anything he could have hoped for. And, with five more Levels, with the threshold bonuses, he could plan to plugin even more Progression Points.

"Fair enough. So, what's next?"

Latham stood and stretched. "From memory, there should just be one more stage. We've got the Raid Boss to take down, for which I hope you're no longer so squishy that I need to focus on protecting you rather than taking him out." The suddenly looked at the ground as if shy. "Did it work out like I thought? Were you able to reclaim your Progress Points? Even from the Skills taken from you when you lost your Class?"

Lowe shared his Core Stats screen with Latham, causing the big man to frown. "What does Rank 2 next to your Intelligence mean?"

"No idea. I kind of hoped you would be able to tell me."

Latham shook his head. "It's not anything I've read about. When did it happen?"

"When I hit 200 Progress Points in Intelligence."

Latham shook his head again. "That's not something of which I'm aware. But then again, I don't know of anyone who would only have had Progress Points in a particular attribute. All the examples of those who have tried this I've heard of were seeking to supplement their Class advantages. I've not come across anything in the literature of the Unclassed trying it."

"We are pretty rare." Lowe's smile was brittle.

"Rank 2? The text's even a snazzy gold colour. Fancy. Does it feel any different?"

"It does, and it doesn't." Lowe pushed some mana into Slugger, feeling his hand fill up with the comforting heaviness. "It's working like before, but . . . " he raised his hand, noticing an odd shimmer across the surface of his fist. "Did you see that?"

"Try it out."

"On what?"

"Hit me."

Lowe raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, sure. And then I'm going to solo a Level 50 Dungeon and fuck the Mayoress as an encore."

"I mean it. It's not like you're going to hurt me. And it would be good to know what sort of heat you're packing before we move on."

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

"Mate, this kind of feels like one of those situations where you lure me into doing something foolish and then kick my arse to teach me a lesson."

"You say that like it's happened more than once."

"Once was enough."

"Suck it up, buttercup and hit me. What do I need to do? Insult your dress sense?"

With a sigh, Lowe half-heartedly raised his fists into a pugilistic posture. "Seriously, mate, if you've got some sort of exotic Skill that makes my pants catch fire when I try this, I'm going to be pissed." With that, Lowe unloaded Slugger onto the side of Latham's jaw.

The outcome was somewhat unexpected.

The jab didn't drop Latham to his knees - that would have been insane. The Level was so far above Lowe that it was surprising that the big man did not regularly cripple his companion just by breathing near him. Likewise, by the very nature of his build and Class, Latham had the sort of passive defensive Skills more usually found on bank vaults. Thus, some significant expectation management was required when Lowe's fist made contact with his face.

In other circumstances, a split lip might have been underwhelming. Right here, right now, however, the two men reacted as if they had just discovered a method of turning water into Stamina potions.

"Motherfucker!" Latham spat a tiny globule of blood to the floor, his massive grin splitting the already healed wound.

Lowe, for his part, was staring at his fist with a look of profound wonder. "What the fuck!"

"So it is all true!" Latham's voice was almost breathless with joy. "Progress Points are more pure than Class-generated ones. Little man, do you know what this means?"

Lowe did not answer, still looking at his hand. Latham grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, rattling his teeth as he did so. "Do you understand, Jana? You've got some game!"

"I barely broke your skin," Lowe protested half-heartedly.

"Little man, your fist should have vapourised before it even made contact with me." Latham waved away Lowe's outraged expression. "Chill, I have Health potions. You would have been fine. The key point is that there's absolutely no way in Soar that you should have been able to hurt me in the normal run of things." His eyes were suddenly unfocused as he checked his damage log, whistling at what he found. "Yep, you are now a certifiable baller. I'd have expected a Level 40 with some sort of Skill like Pugilist to be able to do that. Okay," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's see if it works in reverse."

Lowe enjoyed the next round of experiments considerably less.

*

On the plus side, Roll with the Punches apparently experienced a similar upgrade to Slugger. Whatever Rank 2 Intelligence did to Lowe's mana, it also meant that his heal ability was equally as beefy as his offensive one.

It was pretty hard, though, to hold on to the half-full glass while it was being systematically brutalised to tiny shards. The beating from Latham seemed to go on forever but was probably over in less than twenty seconds, with the Inspector returning to consciousness shortly afterwards.

The first thing he saw was Latham's smiling face looming over him. "Glad someone was having fun," Lowe croaked.

The held out a hand and hauled him to his feet. "Where's your childlike sense of wonder? This is simply amazing!"

Lowe looked down at yet another shirt ruined by an epic bloodstain. "Glad to be of service."

"Your passive Skill gives you the sort of survivability of someone twice your level. I actually had to put a bit of weight behind the last punch to overwhelm your healing factor. Do you understand what that means?"

"That you're a sadistic son of a bitch?"

Latham put his hand on Lowe's shoulder. The Investigator winced instinctively but then realised the impact hadn't hurt for once. "You are showing all the signs of being a Level 40. And that's at Level 20 and, crucially, without having a Class. There's not even a Class I've heard of that can breach that sort of gap. You could eat Mylaf's food for a year and a day and still not have the numbers needed to pull that off."

"Okay . . ." Lowe could understand that this was remarkable, but Latham acted like it was a seriously big deal.

"No, it's more than 'okay'. This suggests that when you reach Rank 2, whatever the fuck that is, you double the effective worth of your statistic." Latham was almost hopping with excitement. "You're living proof that Essence Transmutation Theory isn't just pie in the sky. You prove that you don't need a Class to be competitive. That we don't need to find a patron god to survive. That we can get by on your own without any of that!"

Lowe wasn't wild about the fanatical gleam in the eye. He had come across a lot of people in his previous career who looked like that. Usually right before they started slaughtering people who didn't share their view of the world. "Mate, let's chill things a little. All of that sounds simply lovely. But shall we keep that sort of chat on the inside? I can think of at least half a dozen gods who would see what you've just said as heresy. And I'd kind of miss having you around."

Latham took a deep breath and nodded, but Lowe could tell his words of caution had fallen on deaf ears. There was no zealot like a convert, he thought. "Latham, I mean it. As the only one of us who has had to experience being stripped of his Class and most of his Skills being blocked, I can tell you it's no picnic. There's a reason I was offered execution as an alternative. As a 'mercy' due to my years of service."

But Latham wasn't really listening. Lowe watched as he made a conscious effort to drag his mind back to the here and now, but the glow of possibility did not fade from his expression. "Okay. I hear you. However, in light of developments, I think we should try to mix things up a little. Moving forward."

Lowe felt a sinking feeling settle in his stomach. "Mix things up, how?"

"How do you feel about soloing a Level 30 Heroic Boss?"