I stared at the screens in front of me. More specifically, I focused on the center one.
[Leah Nowey]
Level 1
Power 21 [Offense: 10] [Defense: 11]
Skill: Unknown
Dammit….
The reading was exactly the same as what was on my Display.
My heart sank for the third time today. The disappointment I felt was impossible to describe. I wanted to scream and curse at the world, and at the same time, I wanted to crawl into my bed and cry.
So it was official; I was only a fraction of a Rhombic. Could I even be considered a Rhombic at all at this point?
Sofia had always encouraged me to see the world with more of a glass-half-full outlook. She would always say that there were kids in much worse situations. She insisted that we should be thankful for what we had.
Think positively, and things will work out in the end, and blah blah blah.
The way her brain worked sometimes made me wonder if we were related at all.
Although I teased my older sister for sounding like one of those cliché motivational speakers, I still made an effort to listen to her. Because I loved Sofia and wanted to believe her, I tried hard everyday not to dwell on the tragedy that was my life.
But now, it seemed that Sofia had finally been proven wrong. Life had done it again. Perhaps I should have felt the satisfaction of being right, because I have always known that the world wasn’t a fair place.
But surprise to no one, all I felt was aching disappointment. And because Sofia didn’t even know that I became a Rhombic, I wasn’t even going to get my “I told you so” moment.
“Are you okay?” Virpal asked in a concerned voice. Her calmness, which helped me feel better earlier, was no use now.
I was surprised that my voice sounded normal when I replied, “Is… is there something you can do to help me? Maybe some kind of special potions or weapons…”
I know she didn't mean to, but the kind CIO stomped on the last bit of my hope as she shook her head.
She answered, “No, unfortunately not. You’re right that there are some magic potions and weapons that can help you get stronger. But none of them can make you level up. They certainly can’t increase your Power value, because… Well, frankly, no Rhombic had ever needed to get their Power value up. Like I said before, everyone always had a full 100.”
An awkward silence between us. Even the machines and computers in the room were unusually quiet as if they recognized what a grim situation this was for me.
I waited for the CIO to say something else, perhaps come up with a genius idea, but Virpal only continued to look at me with concern.
Was she going to tell me again that I should quit? I wasn’t saying that this wasn’t what might end up happening anyway, but I still wasn’t ready.
So before Virpal could change her mind about making me quit, I broke the silence.
“I need some time to think. Thank you so much for your help today, and…”
I hesitated before asking, “...Could you please keep this to yourself? I know that RAC probably would want to ban me from entering the Door, and I know it’s for my own safety, but…”
Even if I ended up no longer being a Rhombic, I needed it to happen on my own terms. I wasn’t trying to “stick it to the man” or anything. Not that it made any difference, but I wanted to be the one that makes the choice to stop. I didn’t want the decision to be forced on me.
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Virpal seemed to be troubled. She seemed like someone who liked to follow rules, and what I’m asking her to do had to definitely be against them.
So I was fully ready to use the “orphan” card, which was my secret weapon to get out of trouble. Boy, people were usually very sympathetic and forgiving when I told them the sappiest version of how I lost my parents when I was practically still a baby. This was an evil and powerful tool, and I only used it in emergency situations.
But to my relief, Virpla nodded in understanding. She answered, “Alright. And I'll do my own research to see if I can come with something that might help you. I must tell you that letting you keep your access is against the policy, but… I think I owe you this, Leah.”
Owe me? Owe me for what?
I vaguely wondered about Virpal’s choice of words, but I didn’t feel motivated to ask her after everything I learned today.
When I murmured my thanks, Virpal added, “Just stay safe, okay? I’ll be in touch soon.”
***
The bus was full on my ride back, but this was expected. It was a nice Saturday afternoon, and it was full of young people chatting excitedly.
“Did you hear about Ryder Reece?” one young guy in a baseball cap asked.
The girl next to him, perhaps his girlfriend, replied, “Duh, obviously. It’s all over Twitter! His name is totally trending. I can’t believe he has been banned!”
There was a large group in the bus that appeared to be a bunch of friends going out together. All the seats were taken, so I stood with my shoulders slumped in defeat. I felt wretched, and I was shocked that I wasn’t sobbing like a lunatic.
I knew from the beginning when I first checked my Display that something was very wrong. During my training, my worry intensified as I failed to do what others could. By the end of the first month when my status remained unchanged and I stayed as weak as a newborn kitten, I knew it wasn’t looking good.
Before the appointment to see Virpal, I thought I was mentally prepared. Although I refused to give up hope completely, I tried to be realistic at the same time.
But when the truth, oh the agonizing truth, bitch-slapped me in the face, I felt my world crumbling down around me.
“Well, he ditched his partner and was caught hunting alone, wasn’t he? And this was the third time too. Ryder should be thankful that he was banned for just three months,” the boy in the baseball cap muttered. He didn’t seem like he was a big fan of Ryder Reece.
Gosh, couldn’t everyone just shut up already?
Hearing about other successful Rhombics was not what I needed right now. But sadly for me, my excellent hearing refused to give me some peace and quiet.
Until I was marked, I hadn’t paid much attention to the world of Rhombics. I wasn’t interested in knowing what was going on with the Door or the Pockets, and I certainly didn’t waste my time learning about the famous hunters who were more like celebrities.
But even someone indifferent like me knew who Ryder Reece was.
17-year-old Ryder was one of the Rhombics who had successfully reached the high floors inside the Door. It was rumored that many high profile teams tried to scout him even before he reached the 10th floor.
He was a powerful Lead, especially thanks to possessing a Skill that allowed him to transform anything into a flaming weapon.
His fighting ability brought him many avid fans, but it was his even finer looks that attracted all the fangirls. He was tall, slim but well-built like a true athlete, and boasted of golden hair and blue eyes.
When I was still attending regular school, I remember the other girls drooling all over his photos. At the time, I had scoffed at those girls, but I had to admit that Ryder Reece was indeed a dreamboat.
As if it wasn’t unfair enough that he was powerful and beautiful, Ryder also came from a rich family made up of overachievers.His father was a successful businessman, his mother a local mayor, and his older brother was a famous Olympic medalist.
Ugh, Ryder Reece, nicknamed the Rhombic Prince, made me feel sick. It was even more disgusting that some called him the Justin Bieber of the Rhombic world.
The fact that Ryder was from Canada like Justin didn’t mean anyone should abuse mighty Bieb’s name in vain!
What made me envious wasn’t his beauty, however. Sure, I wouldn’t mind looking like a golden statue the way Ryder did, but what I really needed was power.
And Ryder, that disgustingly perfect guy, had this in abundance.
So being a self-centered girl that I was, I secretly felt glad Ryder was suspended.
I know, I know. It was ridiculous of me even to compare myself to him when he was this big star. And I also knew that it was very petty of me to wish him bad luck.
But who cares?
I was having one of the worst days of my life, so I felt justified to be as unkind as I wished. Besides, it wasn’t like I was ever going to meet him, which made him a perfect target for my anger.
He deserved my bitterness because he had everything I wanted.