NOLMES. ZACRIYA KINGDOM.

"Boss. The goods are here!"

Alan Grennor poked his head out from the back of the store, a strand of lilac hair sliding down his shoulder. He gave the young worker a smile.

"Thanks for your help. You can leave them on the counter," he said. "We're done for the day, so feel free to head back early tonight."

"You say it's early, but it's already past midnight…"

The boy pursed his lips after making eye contact with his workaholic boss. He grinned.

"Have a good night, boss! See you tomorrow."

Outside Alan's Mercenary Corner, the full moon hung high in the sky. The machina glanced at the glowing orb, then flipped the blinds to a close.

He carried one of the stacked boxes into the back of the store and unfolded the cardboard covering, checking off the items down the list. They were gigapelt coats imported across kingdoms. The Mage Faction had predicted a cold winter this year, so these clothes were bound to be in even greater demand than usual.

Alan ran his fingers through the fur's silk-like texture. Aside from these clothing materials, another box remained unopened on the counter.

As he stored away the textiles, one of the infuser orbs on the shelves lit up behind him.

Peering at the fiery red glow, Alan lifted an eyebrow.

"Your Highness?" the machina spoke into the infuser orb, and a smooth voice responded the next moment.

"Good evening, Alan Grennor. I didn't think you'd be still in store at this hour," the Crown Prince's voice emitted through the orb. "How's my request coming along?"

"Quite a timely call, Your Highness," Alan said.

So timely he would have thought Dolan Zacriya kept an eye on him this entire time.

He glimpsed the curtains. "In any case, about your items. They’ve arrived."

The Crown Prince had been investigating the Slums' incident, along with the affairs of the royal family. Although they were currently in a collaborative relationship, the information shared between them was still minimal.

For example…

Alan stared at the box sitting at the counter.

Dolan Zacriya had sent him a message a few days ago, saying that he'd ordered some items to his store and told him to keep an eye out for their arrival. The contents of the box, he did not know. Why Dolan Zacriya had the items delivered to his store instead of the palace, he also did not know.

"I will personally come to pick them up tomorrow morning."

Alan released a wordless sigh, shoving the unopened box into his Spatial Pouch.

"I shall prepare accordingly."

"Another thing," Dolan Zacriya said, this time with a slight pause. "Has Traveller Edris contacted you recently?"

At his question, the machina's hand halted mid-air.

"Pardon me?"

"You gave him your infuser orb, right? Have you talked recently?"

"…You even knew about this?" Alan shook his head, knowing the Crown Prince could not see the action. "No, Your Highness. I haven't heard a word from him since our last conversation before his departure to Adalan."

"That's strange…" Dolan muttered to himself. "Knowing his way of doing things, I was sure he'd cause some sort of mess by now…"

Before Alan could ask what he meant, a clash sounded from the Crown Prince's end, followed by shuffling noises.

"What is it, Poet?' Dolan asked.

"Dolan—we have an emergency," a stern, feminine voice spoke in the distance. The fiery orb pulsed with her voice, and Alan wondered if he should be listening in on the discourse.

In the end, he decided to stay on the call, not daring to end the conversation before the Crown Prince did.

"Professor Harkness?" Dolan's tone was coated with a hint of surprise. "Is everything okay?"

Silently taking in the conversation, Alan blinked at the familiar name.

Saire Harkness was one of the most prominent archmages in the Eastern Continent and the Crown Prince's professor.

"I am currently at the western territory's mining site with the mage brigade," Saire Harkness started. "We were trying to destroy the barriers to enter the mine, but an unknown source attacked us from within the barrier moments after it was damaged.

"Twenty minutes ago, Archmage Magnus had suggested he enter with a small group of mages to scout the situation. But just now, the mages he entered with were thrown back out by the same source that attacked us. Archmage Magnus did not come out with them."

The voice fell silent, bringing about sternness in the air around them.

"I tried asking them what happened in the mine, but their answers were uniformly vague. It appears a part of their memory was wiped.

"All they could report was seeing a flash of light, and the next thing they knew, they were back out here."

Even though he was outside the situation, Alan couldn't help but swallow as he stood in front of the glowing orb, quietly anticipating the archmage's next words.

"Your Highness."

Saire Harkness's voice fell to a whisper.

"Magnus Vyris had disappeared into thin air."

***

MW ACADEMY. LABYRINTH 53.

A week had passed since the announcement of the first round of rankings, and along with it was a growing prominence of the dangers in this Labyrinth.

Edris found his hypothesis of the rankings to be close, if not completely spot on. In the facade of a harmonious academy, the students' rankings were everything—determiners of both social status and how much access one had to campus resources.

The man took a bite out of his milk bread.

It was currently lunchtime, and the cafeteria was packed with students, both natives and players.

Glowing numbers flickered above each of their heads as the student weaved through the cafeteria space to get their food.

Even the meals they got were based on a hierarchy; the higher-ranked students received top quality, scrumptious meals that varied on a day-to-day basis, while the lower-ranked subsisted on porridge and steamed potatoes.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Edris's ranking was 111, sitting around the middle of the list. As a result, his meals were also average, but the man wasn't too concerned about the food, thanks to the effects of the Sacrifical Hourglass.

As for those in the lowest twenty ranks…

"199? A rank this low, and you think you deserve to eat? Shoo, shoo. Quit staining my vision." The catering staff's sneer reverberated throughout the cafeteria, but students had grown numb to the aspersions to pose a reaction.

Indeed, these types of remarks had become a norm for lower-ranked students in the academy. In the first few days, some players would take it as a personal affront and attempt to fight back. These rebuttals lasted until the day when Erik, the player who ranked 208 and threatened to start a riot, returned from [DETENTION].

Licking the crumbs off his lips, Edris calmly cast his gaze over to the table where Erik sat. With hollowed cheeks, the player’s face was buried into the book in his hand as mumbling words left his mouth.

One of his higher-ranked friends came over and passed him a sandwich. However, the man paid no attention to the friend's action as he continued to stare a hole in the book.

"Hey, pull yourself together. You're going to starve to death at this point." His friend narrowed his eyes in concern. "And you're not telling us what happened in [DETENTION] either. What's up with that?"

At the series of questions, Erik only shivered. He grabbed the sandwich, shoved it in his blazer pocket, and shot up from the table.

"Where are you going?" The other player called out, watching as he wandered to the exit.

Erik turned around, eyes aloof.

"To study."

The player stiffened at his words, and Edris's expression grew stern.

Erik paid no heed to the reactions around him. Maybe he didn't notice at all.

"I cannot go back in there… Not for humans…"

The cafeteria fell silent as the man's back faded into the distance. The ceiling fans swirled above their heads, emitting a light hum and blurring the grey lights.

"Master, try this!"

The beast tamer's youthful voice pulled Edris from his trance. The dark-haired man lifted his head, watching Celio slide another glazed nimblet onto his plate. Standing behind them was the top student's assigned butler and a cart of food.

"…"

The differential treatment was real.

"Mister Edris, what is the plan?" Ives tugged at his sleeve. "The second test is soon. Should we just be memorising the book, like the professors told us to?"

Edris lightly knocked his finger on the table surface, thinking.

Ives and Celio had updated him on what happened during class time and the words from the professor. From the current progression of things, he suspected that [DETENTION] was something the Labyrinth was using to lower the players' affinity level.

Affinity was something that could lead to one's survival, but also their downfall.

Looking at the setting as a whole, it didn't take much for Edris—a past Soul Patcher—to connect the dots between the Labyrinth rules and Splinter Syndrome.

The sustainability of one's affinity relied on how successfully the player could immerse themselves in their role. A few days or weeks was fine, but what would happen if they upheld this act for months, and even years?

Labyrinth 53 was supposed to last for an entire three months, the apparent equivalent of an academic year at MW Academy.

Not to mention, this was just one of the many existing Labyrinths. He couldn't dismiss the possibility of much more violent and gruesome settings in others, with more extreme personas assigned to past players.

The longer a Labyrinth was designed to last, the easier it was for players to lose themselves. In the scenario where they do, even after they manage to serve the Labyrinth, it'd be incredibly difficult to readjust to the real-world norms and laws.

Confronted with the two children's anticipated gaze, Edris shook his head.

"We can't let ourselves be led by the rules forever."

Gesturing for them to come closer, Edris explained his plan.

"I'll find a way around the tests with Ace, and you two continue to follow the rules, only to the extent needed to sustain your affinity," he said.

He planned to contact Ace, his trusty mole among the professors. In the meanwhile, he'd need the beast tamer to maintain his top-student persona and attend classes as usual, updating him on the progressing dynamics among players.

"Most importantly, start looking for ways to complete your [MAIN QUEST]."

For Ives, Edris suggested that the seven-year-old complete her main quest as soon as possible. Ives's given quest was to "establish a secret organisation."

He was still unsure whether players would be transported out of the Labyrinth immediately following completion or after the entire countdown ended. Given the ambiguity of Ives's task, they needed time to figure out the specifics, what was effective and what was not, without compromising her affinity level.

This was achievable only through trial and error.

Celio's main task was to "blow up the music tower." The problem with his task lay within the method. The music tower was guarded at all times, and even if Celio were to enter under Ace's accompaniment, he had no way of actually blowing up the tower.

Since the Labyrinth had restricted all mana usage, they'd have to resort to manually creating a bomb. There was one problem regarding whether the beast tamer knew how to create one, but another, more pressing issue on how he'd obtain the needed materials.

Edris couldn't have the white-haired man break the tower for him either, since then Celio be the one completing the task.

As for his own main quest…

Edris peered at the glowing interface in front of him.

PLAYER [EDRIS] 'S MAIN QUEST:

Confess to your unrequited love during the [FINAL EXAM]!

TIME LIMIT: 81:13:45:02

His task was only achievable right before the deadlines of the Labyrinth, during the so-called "final exam." Although the deed itself wasn't difficult, the problem lay within his affinity level.

Edris sighed.

The exam was likely to take place in a classroom setting, the top threat for lowering his affinity. How he would get around this stalemate situation was one of many issues he needed to consider.

Amidst the dark-haired man's thoughts, the glowing number "12" popped up in his view.

"Yo! What are you thinking so hard about?" The freckled boy approached the group with a grin. "Your unrequited love?"

He slid his two plates full of food onto an empty part of the table and plopped next to Edris.

The latter glanced up through his lashes.

Frankly, Edris didn't expect the freckled boy to luck out and be ranked twelfth on the test. But again, having more higher ranks around him only yielded benefits, as he now had more people he could use to his advantage.

"I haven't seen you in a while." Edris smiled. "Congrats on your ranking."

The freckled boy looked at him, cringing. "Don't act so chummy, dude. I know you just want my notes." He tossed him a scone, then gave him a good pat on the back. "Don't worry, 111. I gotcha."

After his one-sided conversation with Edris, the freckled boy turned his attention to the two sitting across from him. His gaze fell on the rankings floating atop their heads.

"Number 1… My top student roommate." He looked at Celio in admiration, to which the latter responded with narrowed eyes.

Unaware of his reaction, the freckled boy then turned to the seven-year-old.

"And… 112? Hold on, I thought you were a prodigy?"

Ives gave him a flat stare, then returned to eating her baby carrots. The freckled boy let out an awkward cough.

"It's okay. Even prodigies have bad days."

He shuffled toward Edris, giving the man a good nudge on the arm. The freckled boy wiggled his eyebrows.

"Look at you, 111. Getting all cosy with these smartasses so you can scam your way through class. I'm telling you, you have a clever brain—you just never use it in the right place." He shook his head. "Worry not, though. As Number 12, Number 1 and I will be sure to get you through this!"

"Why are you addressing everyone by their ranks?" Celio cut in, a frown visible on his face. "Quit being stress-inducing."

The freckled boy blinked. "Number one? What do you mean?"

At his dumbfounded expression, Celio let out a sigh.

"Like I just said…"

His words fell short as the dark-haired man, sitting across from him, held up a hand. Edris turns toward the freckled boy.

"Hey," he said. "What is your name?"

"Ha? Dude, are you serious?" The boy stared at him in disbelief.

"What is your name?" Edris asked again.

"…You're for real right now?"

At his stern expression, the boy paused. His brows scrunched together, looking visibly confused as to why he had asked him the question.

"It's me—number 12."

Ives stopped munching on her carrots. She stared up.

"Not your ranking," Edris said, voice calm as usual. "Your name."

"What are you on about? I've been called 12 my whole life."

"What are you on about?" Celio blinked. "We just got our rankings over a week ago."

"Alright, then how about this." Edris gazed at the freckled boy. "What is my name?"

"Seriously, you need reminders of your own name? Are you okay? It's Edris—"

The freckled boy's voice hitched in his throat. His eyes widened as he suddenly noticed something.

"E…dris?" He repeated. "Hold on. Why do you have a name? Aren't you 111? Where did 'Edris' come from?"

In the student-packed cafeteria, the four of them fell silent. After a whole five seconds, the freckled boy lifted his head. His eyes were filled with horror.

"Edris, I think I lost my name."