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Humans Must Adapt!
Chapter 1: The Last Winner

Chapter 1: The Last Winner

I never liked sleeping in a bed, and I don't know why. I'm not someone who believes myself too rugged for simple luxury or someone with anxiety-induced insomnia. My untested hypothesis of why this bothered me is typical beds are in a safe, dark, and perhaps even cozy room designed to lull you into a state of relaxation to help you slowly drift off until the next sunrise.

But it has the opposite effect on me. I know that in this day and age, nothing guarantees my safety, and the darkness makes me hyper-aware of the noises that go on in the city. I have no problems with cozy things, I can still appreciate a nice warm place to lay my head, but I can sleep anywhere at any time.

I woke up early again. Today is Monday morning, the first day of fall. It's the first day of "education that will waste my time." I call it that, but everyone else calls it "Mana Education for the Gifted." Everyone goes to some institute after their mandatory K-12 unless they sign up for the military or are the heir to some conglomerate.

The one I'm going to is not for "the gifted" but for the average. I don't have a high-ranking class, so instead of shilling out too much money I did not have, or gods forbid, going into debt, I had to pick a government-run "Community School" that was in my city. If I got a decent production class - like a blacksmith, alchemist, or enchanter - I could go to a trade institute instead.

Having a high-ranked class that lets me learn magic or a one-of-a-kind class custom-tailored to me would've been the best-case scenario. I could've stood there and let the big shots at the various schools beg at my feet to pay for my tuition at their establishments. But that did not happen.

I had many eyes on me. I meant that I got offered a few shady scholarships at unheard schools in a city I had no idea existed. I declined those offers.

I went to bed early last night at the behest of my foster parents, Lydia and Simon Caddel, and readied myself for the day before anyone in the house was awake. It became a habit of mine since sharing the bathroom with three other people sucks, especially since one of those people is a teenage girl close to my age. She is a walking disaster, and whenever I use the bathroom after her in the mornings, I wonder if another Collision happened when I was asleep.

After showering and shaving, I look into the mirror while checking my [Status].

~

Name: Ellis Vincere. Race: Human

Nickname: The Last Winner.

Level: 1 (0/100)

Class: Tamer (Rank D)

Titles: None

~

Health Points 30/30 (100%)

Mana Points 35/35

Armor Points 0 (Equipment)

~

Might: 5 (Dictates the user's physical capabilities in raw power)

Agility: 5 (Dictates the user's physical capabilities in motor function and reaction)

Vigor: 6 (Dictates the user's physical health and toughness)

Mind: 7 (Dictates the user's mana capacity and mental capacity)

Spirit: 5 (Dictates the user's skill with magic and abilities)

Luck: 1 (Dictates Something)

~

Traits:

Adaptable [Locked]

Insane E:

Skills that affect the mind will have varied results, not considered normal, with skewed common sense.

Skills:

Companion E (½) lv1

The user can designate a creature as a companion with their consent or if they cannot resist. A companion is necessary for other Tamer skills to work.

Companions cannot have a higher Spirit stat than the Designator

Registered Companions: Flash Gordon.

Powerful Spirit D lv1

Gain one point into Spirit per Level up.

Inspect E lv1

Look at the [Status] of any companion. The low level requires that the other party must be willing.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

~

I don't like my [Status] one bit. Not only did I get a shitty rank-D class, but also this weird [Trait] calling me mentally insane! I am not crazy, not crazy in the slightest.

My only other [Trait] doesn't do anything. It doesn't have a rank, it doesn't have a description, so it has nothing. I can guess what it does or will do. But right now, I have no way of knowing if it's even active or not.

My skills suck. I have the Rank E version of Companion, the general ability of any Tamer class. If my Rank is D, why do I have E rank skills? The best thing is the higher-than-average stats than my fellow level ones. The average for level one human beings is five across the board. Ignoring luck because who needs that anyways? I have a massive advantage over the others. My average is 5.6 instead of the pitiful 5-point average.

I comb my platinum hair and look into my own blue eyes. Why am I level one anyway? Most people get their class at around level 3~5. My luck will be my excuse. At least I am prettier than average. No. The correct words would be "better looking than average."

A few days ago was my eighteenth birthday. For my eighteenth birthday, as is tradition for humans, I underwent a ceremony to see the class I have. The atmosphere felt the same as when I got my driver's license at the DMV. Long lines filled with people that have to do other things today, slow government workers with higher aspirations now work for pay that is just enough to pay bills and eat food. Not paying for privileged awakenings, as the kids of moguls do, really snuffs out the shine of one of the most pivotal events in my life. Some wealthy ones have their way of awakening the system, allowing them to awaken at any age. I hear a loud knock on the bathroom door.

"Ellis, you have been in there for over an hour! What the fuck are you doing?" Thank gods it was just Val, my foster sister, who needed the bathroom. Not Simon or Lydia.

I quickly put on clothes and open the door coming face to face with Val Caddel. Objectively speaking, Val is a beautiful woman. She has natural pink hair that confuses me and white skin with freckles covering her face, highlighting her green eyes. She pushes me out of the bathroom and slams the door behind her.

"Mom and dad want to speak with you at the dinner table," her muffled voice comes from the door. I quickly make my way down the stairs to the dining room.

Simon, a thin man taller than I am, reads from a titleless book. He is bespectacled and scholarly. He has slightly graying hair and faded skin, but he still has a bright spark in his eyes. He reminds me of my biological dad, but the similarities end there. He warmly smiles when he sees me in my uniform for Bluefield Institute. It is a purple and white uniform with an emblem over my heart.

"I see you were excited to see your new school son, waking up at the crack of dawn, making sure you are all prim and proper to maximize first impressions." Simon stands up and walks over to me, putting his hands on my shoulders.

"You know that I always wake up early."

"I know you don't like showing excitement, Ellis, but today is the day that many things will change for you. You are now an adult, and after your graduation, you can join me in my company."

I know he wants me to stay in his life after graduating. He only wants to show that he cares for me and wants me to succeed. He lost his real son many years ago. He died around the same age as when they picked me up, thirteen. I never told them about my biological family, but they found out anyway. How couldn't they? I was the grandson of a conqueror.

Vincere means "to win" or "to conquer." "Accomplish great victory" and a few other similar words. That is what my grandfather told me. The family name stemmed from a language that is not around anymore. At the wise age of eight, I asked him if there was any proof of his claims.

He said, "I am living proof for their past, and you are living proof for the future."

My grandfather was Alexander Vincere, a great man who reclaimed lands lost to the Collision and fought against hordes of creatures that wished to wipe out what remained of humanity. He willingly gave up the lands he took to the people instead of taking them for himself. A lesser-known achievement was the unification of mankind with otherkind. The other races appeared after the Collision. He was one of the many bastions of humanity, and when he disappeared, the many people who knew him were skeptical of the future. That was ten years ago. All the other Vinceres either died or disappeared, leaving only me.